SHORT ODE TO THE FUTURE AND STORMS
There’s a storm coming,
Cleansing in leaf ripping magnitude.
Sitting underneath as branches creak and bend,
I see now the beginning, not the end
Of sunlight there seems a calm of spirit.
An artists balm of deep regard
For futures undreamt, our past unfolds
Into longing
For the future I behold
And for the future, I love the storm.
SFK
