A storm will travel through the night,
Through the day and its envious light.
Casting precious moments,
On a loved one’s soul,
Either lost or stories that will unfold.
Treasure peeks the storms eye,
Drifting through its trouble cry.
Sun light potentially darkening its day,
Mother nature worry,
For a different way.
Destruction at the tip of its fingers,
Moving through troubled winds,
Exhausting all its limits,
The storm decides to spin.
What seems like,
An everlasting storm in limbo,
Is just a walk across the street,
To another friend.
©
Robyn G. Neymour