Thursday, February 7, 2019

In the quiet of the evening

In the quiet of the evening
my soul cries out in pain
I hear
the crickets
of all the people
not willing
to speak up
I feel
the gentle breeze
of those slowly moving
not willing to ruffle a feather
But in the distance
I see lightning
in the coming clouds
a storm
on the horizon
of an angry God

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