the sky could part at any second,

and we are waiting for that moment-
the one where, all life can be replenished
as the saturation seeps through the sidewalk,
into the fertile earth.

rain beats on windows, battering-
the relentless sound of vitality,
yet we detest it so; we equate this
to misery.

we have found our shelter, and
fear the way the world would move
without it. the wind could violently
cue up a symphony and reduce our world
to a mere shell of what it once appeared to be;
this is hiroshima. we can save face, but
we are eternally damaged by this thunderstorm;
and revitalized by the life sprung therefrom.

the sky has parted, and the world has
been washed under a sea of destruction.

but then, was this deserved?
or was it reckless?
only the fire after the flood will tell,
when it is revealed the true way that
every ending always reveals something more.

05/15/2004

Author's Note: a sequel to '(crashingthroughprisms'

Posted on 05/15/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams