Once crashed the waves in tempest’s storm,

and blew the wind as sails were torn.

Once drove the rain against frozen skin

as darkness took the vessel in.

 

Once void of any hope at all,

trapped deep inside the prison’s wall,

beneath the crushing weight of lead

but faintest light shown from ahead.

 

Then in a moment, skies were clear

and ocean’s calm dispelled the fear.

It seemed blue skies meant all is well.

The storm has past now mend the sail.

 

So gave I way to those who care,

and bent the knee and found what’s there -

pure wine upon the lees in hand

and from it, strength to make a stand.

 

But drifting time brought slumber’s sleep

as wind reversed across the deep.

Blue sky gave way to churning black.

Nowhere to go, no turning back.

 

For little deeds allowed back in

like seeds of tares took root again

and oh, how fast the vines did grow.

And I had nowhere left to go.

 

Once back again in tempest’s hold.

Now worse the winds, now worse the cold.

The brief blue sky and radiant warm…

was only the eye of the storm.