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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Buckets of rain, boisterous as thunder, wrecked September’s farewell, flooding the mountains, the hills, the rivers and creeks. Wild and livid, coloring the air in streaming tears, erasing the faintest feel of a hopeful prayer. The moment spun out of control and I could feel my heart breaking, my mind quaking, my spirit shaking, as the mountain slid beneath the waters who weren’t necessarily hungry for their trees, but still, the rain forced the oaks, the pines, the birch, to uproot and slide with the same dark fury as the rest of the dirt, the mounds of black earth, slithering, slipping, skating to a place it wasn’t meant for. Sometimes on the tops of houses, other times on the tops of roads, always into moments they had never reckoned for. The despair tore through my mind, wiping out the rain and time stood still, quieting the roaring that was too loud to miss. Yes, I missed it. The sound was gone. All I could hear in my ear was the monotonous rain, pouring out its dread, its deafening rage, stilling my hopes and causing me to fear something that was so beyond my control. So wild and so violent. I saw Hurricane Helene change my whole world, the world of so many who knew her pen, and still, I found a way to shed her shadow and disengage her haunting. I found a way as so many others did. While the mountain slid and my heart felt afraid like it never had, I knew that the strength of mountain hearts would go on and on because God is still more powerful than her pen. So, even though I can’t erase her permanent ink, I can say, though I’m changed, I know what it means to let go and let God, to still believe that life is good. rain dripping, clinging ricocheting on waters remaining brutal
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