The storm rages on,
beating brows and bending backs
like trees in the wind,
swaying else they may snap.
Collars pulled tight and
heads bowed down,
never daring to look up
at the deluge all round.
Through gloomy days
and long cold nights,
through the turmoil of life
and though we may fight,
our journeys start the same,
with a foot outside the door;
one following the other
across ever changing floors.
Fighting forces
we can barely even see,
pushing ourselves
in our efforts to be free.
Holding desperate hands
lest we be pulled apart,
breaking the chains
that hold desperate hearts.
The strongest lead the way
against the howling winds,
offering protection
to both kith and kin.
Carrying the elderly;
the infirm and weak.
Never needing to be asked
nor even to speak.
As one we must survive,
achieving glorious ends,
to rebuild our lives in harmony
with family and friends.
To live as one community,
offering help to one and all.
Together we will soar
instead of a steady fall.
So keep a candle burning bright
in the window by the door,
so as we emerge from the darkness
we will know where to go.
When the wind is howling
and the snow dust’s our feet,
we’ll see your glowing beacon
and know you’re there to greet.
*
Written by Darren Scanlon, 16th September 2014.
This revised version written 1st April 2015.
©2015 Darren Scanlon. All rights reserved.
