The Perfect Storm
The Perfect Storm
Twas fate that blew the wild wind
And delivered me to the perfect storm.
The thunder screamed, the lightning blazed,
The day that I was born.
Winter’s withering whisper speaks
With hate and loss and fears
The anger of the perfect storm
Thaws into rain like tears.
Yet as the woeful clouds disperse,
A gentle, calm ancestral breeze
leaves the perfect storm unarmed
A hint of sun, a spring to seize.
And with unyielding kindred love
The summer conquers all before
And penetrates my very soul,
I am this perfect storm.
A season will come
When a new storm will brew
And I can only pray
That it is perfect too.
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