Across the window rain comes down;
It patters softly, does not pound.

With depth and power thunder rolls,
Excitement rumbling--never droll.

Lightning reveals a great gray sky:
Glimpse of a storm cloud swirling by.

Wind pulls at trees; gently they sway.
Dead or weak leaves are whisked away.

Rumbling and flashing, rain-soaked palm;
But human soul feels inner calm.

Man can't control thunder or rain--
Only observe through a window pane.

In nature's storms we view God's power;
Be still, be calm, enjoy the shower.

Published in Fountains 2005, content editor, Rebecca Schmuck

Night, soft
And unassuming settled
Silently; a cloudy curtain swept across
The pale celestial face...
Blinking eyes.

Darkness
Flooded over
Presuming, assuming, consuming.
A stab of light:
Antares pricks the veil.

It dissipates.

I ache
while watching a life so full
of promise and potential--
of hope--
ground under the pestle of choice
while my voice,
screaming,
falls silent on her deaf ear.
And I shovel all my care
on her
and love and beg and pray,
hoping only to delay
an end
of disaster, destruction, disdain.
Though my efforts be in vain,
I strive.

Lying in pieces
On the face of the ocean
The moon is broken.

January day:
Drifting down from Heaven's fields
Snow-flakes kiss my cheek.

End of a long day
In the comfort of my bed
Tired but can't sleep.

There rises out of the gloomy darkness
of the future
a shadow--
an inky figure...mysterious...unknown.
But I love this shadow,
though I know it not yet.
It's visage is hidden,
yet I am certain of its beauty;
it's voice, unheard,
echoes lovely in my ear.
I am drawn to this shadow by
an inexplicable longing,
and I know that this shadow anxiously awaits
my arrival in Tomorrow.
And when the mists of Future give way to
the dawn of Today,
she will love me, too.