A weathered storm

The builder wavers, small and lost
A storm it swells inside
A lonely, scary, forlorn place
Where confusion stifles cries

Winds they howl their restless tune
So loud the echo felt in ears
A circling hurricane of thoughts
Sweeps up scattered fears 

Amongst them swirls the sharp debris
Ancient scraps from depths arise
To twist and tumble, laughing on
Darkening misty skies

The earth it shakes, a rubble dance
Fracturing the dream
The builder lost for their next move
To cry, to run, to scream

But feet are planted, palms upturned
A breath goes in…and out
The wind takes notice, pausing now
To see what’s come about

Another breath, an upturned mouth
Debris turned birds that fly
The earth it stills, the rubble sleeps
All eyes are on the sky

With every breath the clouds they part
Warmth penetrates the air
The sun with steadfast presence
Whether felt is always there

The builders tool, this vital breath
Shall keep the storms at bay
A timeless, priceless, simple gift
To nourish every day

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