Storm (5/22/95)

A storm rages.
Silently in the morning,
in each others arms
two unspoken dreams
dissolve beneath a leaky roof.

    Hurt and disapointment.
    Two bright fantacies 
    darkened by the cloud
    of unexpected reality
    as a gale tears the petals off the rose.

        The briar remains.
        Tough roots hold strong
        as the sun battles to move
        the stubborn veil of doubt
        which defies the blossom's return and growth.

Seeds and fruit.
Nurtured and given strength,
the branches live and reach
slowly but stronger, more sure
to grow and show the beauty first offered.

    Impatient but invisible.
    Each bud, tender and exposed
    is testimony to a new trust.
    The sheltering lattice holds
    the new life safe against the seasons gusts.

        The wind is to blame, but gone and past
        as arms again reach out to hold
        as souls dare to dream again
        as truth now speaks and is finally heard
        as the weather falls quieter, calmer, warmer.