The Beauty of Storms

The Beauty of Storms

by Darrel L. Hammon
with inspiration from Mata Kāpeta

 


Storms come gently, sometimes viciously,
usually early morning, just about dawn.
They clamor over the mountains,

through the valleys, and on to the plains,
gathering ferocity, twisting trees until they snap,
causing grass and flowers to bend,

face down into the saturated ground.
The ferocity of spring storms is really no match
for the storms that doth beset us in real life—

Storms of divorce, depression, anxiety,
lost children, husbands or wives who stray,
disease and brittle bones, addictions,

and just plain sadness and withdrawal.
We often curl up by the window in large chairs,
grandma’s old throw wrapped around us for comfort,

stare into the wee mornings and watch the rains
and winds bash the windows outside
while our personal storms bash us from the inside,

wrecking more havoc than 50-mile per hour winds.
Yet, we know, though, that after the winds die down
and rains and their gray clouds dissipate over the ridge,

the sun emerges triumph. So, too, within us,

we also know—and plead fervently—
that the Son will appear as well, settle beside us

in any dark corner we find ourselves,
knowing His Light will dispel all darkness.
That is the beauty of storms,

knowing they retreat as suddenly
as they come when the Sun exerts its power
through Him who created all.