After the Storm
The sky broke open, spilling light along empty streets,
and he went under its shelter, carrying the weight of every yesterday
as if each memory could still cleave to his shoulders.
Raindrops lingered on the pathway like strewn mirrors,
catching pieces of moments thought lost:
the eyes that believed, the hands that shaped him and the whispers of care that remain long after absence.
Every step ahead shuddered with uncertainty.
But still the world teemed with quiet promise.
He spotted small wanders--
the scent of wet earth rising,
a leaf twirling in a plash,
the soft pulse of life returning after darkness.
He stumbled, he faltered,
yet each fall shaped a different rising:
a reed that bends but does not break,
a step that carries forward still,
though the horizon clings to storm.
No one walked beside him
but still he felt the world breathe softly in his steps.
The storm had passed, leaving only light;
a silent endurance entrenched in every step,
a mellow voice that urging him to continue,
even when the track is yours alone.
Copyright © Rowena Velasco | Year Posted 2025
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