Shelter

A world storms, great clouds roll in over a forecast that had predicted sunshine. We walk the streets in a daze, how nothing seems real when the rug is swept from under you and the chasm opens. I left my job one day and I'm not coming back. Perhaps this wasn't the time to believe in a brighter future.

We took a bus to the eastern end of the long island, caught a ferry, made our way through golden foliage and down a hidden path, found a quiet paradise where nothing seemed to exist but the now. How far away the world sometimes. I slept a hundred hours in silent blackness and let the answers come to me in time.

When all the storms have raged, we will still be here. When the fires have burned, when the wars have been fought, when the angry men have yelled and lost their voices, something greater will emerge from the rubble. We will find a way, because we have to. I will carry this heavy heart until it can find reason to fly.