The storm comes,
giddily dropping regret
from grey clouds
and I question again meaning.

Something is wrong —
the letters juxtapose themselves
all over the page
creating nonsense.

The significance is beyond my means.
I give up having to know
and lean into the wind
allowing the thunder to echo through me.

Another day. Can I bear another day?
I look down at my feeble hands.
They will have to suffice.
Sometimes I can’t hold on.

Then is when I find
someone is holding me
and I fall home
into sufficient grace.

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