Worn in the Storm

The calm of the storm never lasts long- that fleeting, still moment when nothing is wrong. Surrounded by chaos, calm quickly subsides, replaced by tumultuous, turbulent tides.

Life whirls and whisks and whittles us down,  shaking and shattering and twirling us ’round. Back in the storm our reprieve is forgotten,  howling winds blow us, straight toward the bottom.

Will this be the end?  A final place of rest? Or can we still mend, after passing this test? Will calm come again- a brief pause in the storm?  Or will clear skies soon break,  allowing us to be reborn?

Nothing is known but for now I hold on,  flapping and flailing but not quite all gone.  Battered and weathered and bruised and worn, just staying afloat til another morn.

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