The End of September

Settled in the sighs, like a still cool Who remembers, at the end of September’s Final thoughts… Raging, wild as the wind, rain in furious drenching, Pouring over the mountains, the trees bent The stillness of Appalachia, warring with the violent storm, One who leaves more devastation across its path Than any photo, any description, any poet can explain… Echoes of the roaring, pouring out waters of grief, While the blessings – for a moment, quieted by the sinking feeling, Hearts mourning the memories of clear, soft songs, Praising, amazing, awakening the soul to the gentle of a creek, The soothing of a river’s hesitant beat, rhythms of hope Erasing the night’s heavy breath, praying for the serenity, the calm Beyond the storm, breaking through the downpour… Hastening to remember, just as we were ending September, There came a storm, more furious, more powerful, than we had ever known… This storm, most like a war, shattering dreams, feelings, streams, Rivers, released from their banks, dark and forbidding, Glistening with trembling, hostile, the enemy of tranquility, Friend of the adversary… but then, I remember, even the wind, Rains, storms that seem more powerful than anything I’ve ever known… These, even these, aren’t as powerful as the One Who provides the peace, restores the faith, Stirs hearts to believe in the amazing grace, Promises souls to speak to the winds, the seas… Breath peace, gentle and sweet, through the storms that grieve Even me, with their unending disquiet, their unrest, Their dark foreboding, the rumbling of a distant thunder, The fears, despairing, drenching the wonder… His voice returns to me, some sense of security, As I remember, the end of September… Mark 4:39 And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.