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Optimism
The eye of the storm is upon us.
Calm seas are not far behind.
Though my ship may have
Loose nails and
Tattered sails,
A crew soaked to the bone,
There will be drier days.
Waves crush the bow
And hammer the starboard.
An unrelenting force.
But we do not fear,
For after their tantrum
The waves become
Calm and smooth.
There will be drier days.
Days of soft sands,
Fertile land.
Men, women, children.
People.
Laughing, loving, living.
I see them over the horizon.
Accompanied by the warm and soothing sun.
There will be drier days.
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