I stood in the
Storm
I stood in the storm as it hurried by,
Wondering why, O why it passed me by.
I stood in place, but I ran after it.
Catching up with it, I asked it why,
Why, O why did it pass me by?
"I've devastated you again and again.
“But I'll visit you again before your end,”
As it whirled past me around the bend.
I hoped the onlookers would comprehend.
I stood on
my ground and began to pray
For those
who didn’t know, a storm was on its way.
I prayed for
those who slept during the day.
Many didn’t
know a storm was coming their way.
I stood in
my place, in shoes full of Grace.
I stood
there praying for the tears on their face.
With sheer
bewilderment that often can efface
And disturbs those unprepared for a strenuous race.
It is impossible to outrun a tumultuous storm,
Even if you can see the very beginning of its form.
If it's for you to suffer it, then suffer it, you must.
Some have a dread: "Something bad is going to happen.”
For the wise, premonitions are considered a buffer.
The wise don't get caught in unprofitable storms
Without the full armor that it takes to victoriously suffer
Whatever it takes to move from one place to another,
To come out into a new sun that heals, not harms.
I stood in the storm as it hurried by,
Wondering why, O why it passed me by.
I stood in place, but I ran after it.
Catching up with it, I asked it why,
Why, O why did it pass me by.
~Mary Moore, 2014
