Storm

Lightning danced across the night sky

shocking the stars,

pulse-pounding thunder like a heartbeat

drummed deeply,

resounding,

pounding,

moving the Earth;

Once-in-a-lifetime such a Storm

comes rolling in,

slowly and gently building,

pressure rising,

electricity tensing,

until it crashes wildly into us,

lifting us in a whirlwind

that seems beyond our control;

Like eternal Salvation,

that elusive miracle

after trial by fire,

overwhelms with its grace,

the Storm rages along,

embracing us,

we rise

into the starlit sky,

riding the Storm forever.

© ACG

05 April 2011

The Quiet Man

Deliberately

and with care,

he stands,

watching us

or waiting,

usually with his hands

clasped behind his back,

a little smile

turning down his mouth;

As others seek the spotlight,

he stands back,

never putting himself forward,

although he deserves to shine

in the warming glow of

attention and praise,

he never seeks it,

never asks for acknowledgement

or even simple thanks;

He is a quiet man:

unlike the heroes of old,

his actions are not lauded,

his praises are not sung;

he does not see

that his day-to-day life

is an epic for the ages.

This quiet man

stands alone,

unparalleled,

incomparable;

an Atlas,

his shoulders bear the weight

of the world,

our world;

this quiet man

willingly stands

between us and despair,

he is our Great Wall,

ever protecting.

© ACG

02 April 2011