A Sliver of Light
On the storms that don't end on schedule — and the small beam that shows up anyway.
For the seasons that go on too long. The poem promises nothing about timing. It just promises that the light eventually arrives.
There were days with no sun
And a cold that pierced your soul
Violent winds with no remorse
And waves that’d swallow you whole
Time goes slow in the dreary
When nature unleashes fury
And what are we to them?
We can only hope to tell the story
Because beyond the gloomy clouds
And vicious storms with no end in sight
A sliver of light would beam through it all
And suddenly, lost dreams were restored once more
You don’t get to know when the storm ends. You just get to keep going until it does. A sliver of light — that’s the form the ending usually takes. Not a grand parade. Just a small, narrow beam, and a quiet realization that you’re standing in it.
— JTC