She becomes the wind

that urges my waves to break the shoreline.

Please, it calls

Be the mountain that remains still and solid

nothing like the gentle waters that so easily become

a raging storm.

I know it is because

there is too much force driving her airs

and perhaps to relent a bit to the water

is to make for a gentler wind that howls at night

as the rain departs from the sky.

 

Father, I know you are to be the roots that

keep our household standing strong.

But too often you shake with rage and

leave our family on a tilt.

Father, when the wind howls

I know you are the force.

Father, when two worlds collide,

I wonder which is the better.

Father, you send us rare smiles with a taste of heaven

only for the negativity and anger to throw us in the pit of hell.

Father, 

have you heard the silence that fills our home?

It is one that screams too much of loss.

 

It's funny how you can lose things that

never were there from the start.