Hope

By Anna Wilson

 

Sheets of rain are pounding down;

relentless rhythm.

My hands are cold

but I feel warm.

 

There's a stray, lonely ray of light,

shining through a cloud of mist.

I breathe in cold,

and a rush of calm.

 

Thunder rolls through the ground,

showing the power in each flash.

Electricity is cold.

Energy rises through my body.

 

Sheets of rain are falling

in a heavy, slow rhythm.

My hands are cold,

but I smile; serenity.