The breeze on my face,
The breath in my throat,
The waves of the grass.
A storm is about to break.
I am lost in the thunder, and it lifts me off my feet. The wind dashes me against the rocky wall like a tumbleweed. Over and over and over again until my brain is raw and burning.
I feel my sanity slipping away.
But then out through the wind I hear a voice calling, calling:
“This is not the end. This is where it begins.
This is the dark befor the dawn.”
Then I look up and see a spark of light shining through the grey clouds, though they suddenly shut it out again like an intruder on their doorstep.
But now nothing can shut out the hope in my heart.
I still see the slashing lightning and the wind.
But I know that this same wind that brought the storm here, will soon take the storm far away.
Because this is not just the dark.
This is the dark before the dawn.
This poem inspired by Andrew Peterson’s song: “The Dark Before the Dawn”.