Allen

whose purpose was to roll over and crush me,
that I realized they provided a vantage.
Or when I began catching the falling sticks,
and pushing the sharp edges into the ground to pull myself up
that I would grow in confidence.
Or realizing that moving in the dark with fewer distractions could be advantageous.
Learning that the branches prodding, poking, scratching, and falling on me,
could also provide shelter from the coming storms.
 
Like the day after a hurricane, the aftermath surrounds me.
Yet today the sky is clear as the sun’s rays strike the earth with life.
Stagnant thinking now thawed by the warmth is encouraging,
and the light is bright enough to open my internal eyes.
Could it be that I’m carrying debris from storms past,
debris that I neglected to dispose of,
now anchoring me in both the past and present?
Has redundancy and exhaustion lullabied my spirit,
causing me to sleepwalk through some of my life?
 
For the first time in a long while,
I stared into my internal mirror unsure of what I would find,
I realized that even the glances had been far and few between.
As I looked closer, there I was, bent over from towing hurt,
and carrying memories that brought noise to my own peace.
 
I have silenced my dreams, with restless sleepless nights,
sweating out heatwaves from seasons that have no recollection of me.
As I gaze at that internal mirror even closer, I ask myself a question.
Is what I’m experiencing now worse than the actual trials from my past?
If so, then clearly downpour isn’t always from the rain,
now is it?
-Allen Strother