The Storm

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The Storm - a poem
The enemy isn’t out there.
And I don’t think the enemy is in here.

{points to chest}

The enemy is the darkness.
The evil that overcomes humanity
and subsumes our will.

What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

The Light does not destroy, it doesn’t kill the dark,
it pierces through, revealed only in shadow.
So, too are we not to be
destroyers in the dark, but
revealers of the light
for the light is never overcome.

Friends, my dearest ones,
this sturm und drang, no orage
it is dark, it seems the blackest night,
how soon we forget our days,
the truce to end our greatest evil
fell upon a Wednesday
but on a Friday it resumes?
France, again the victim, the wounded,
our eyes clenched, the surge
of fear and rage, the bloody cocktail.

Today, so dark, but we relax, open
the light floods in red and blue
and white spots
And the rolling thunder passes
revealing the sharp chaos in its wake
but it is here I hope we glimpse
the world as it is, as it truly is,
in wide eyed frenzy
and brutal grief.
There is no special sight to unlock
to see the truth of our world,
the carnage of hate
and the nihilistic evil of fatalistic minds;
the compassionate prayers of relief
and the outpouring of universal understanding.
In the midst of cruelty it is my eternal hope
that we come to know
that we live in a world ruled by fear
yet we are a called
to be a people ruled by love.