The black clouds threaten to fall down
Settling a heavy weight on our shoulders.
Covers of wet, watery droplets are flying
Through the air, drawn as thin as my nerves.
A sound of resentment is roaring across the sky
Which we truly believed to be our safe heaven.
Hand in hand, we are waiting. Nervously patient.
If we are going to be crushed… at least not alone.
And so we waited. And we still are waiting. Nothing happens.
Sundown, sunrise. The storm passed by solemnly.
I got the idea when I looked through my reader and found this post from Lizl Bennefeld.
It was the picture which made the words appear in my head.