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A Black Cloud

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Lord, it is dark inside and darker out, and black thunderous rainstorms thunder by blessing the tiller, the grower in drought but Lord, not all that rages is the sky. Behold, I am drowning but not yet drowned, an ordinary man and nothing more on a quest to find hitherto unfound the heat of passion that begins the thaw. In the sum of all hurt this I must bear - that I too have known the seasons of drought, and washed am I in a cold bath of fear by life’s flood of tears and love’s well of doubt. Still the ground I till lays fallow and torn but for the pricking briar and piercing thorn. Written: July 1997

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Date: 10/11/2024 7:40:00 PM
Love to see your 2024 reflection poem on this poem. Outstanding work, KT.
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Keith D Trestrail
Date: 10/11/2024 7:45:00 PM
The clouds are still there. Thanks Arlo.
Date: 10/11/2024 7:52:00 AM
Awesome metaphor on life Keith. Sometimes it seems that our efforts are in vain and thorns and thistles are all we get for our pain. But there's always a ray of light in the darkness
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Keith D Trestrail
Date: 10/11/2024 7:01:00 PM
Yep, onward and upward…literally.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things