Starting All Over Again



this time, tonight, as his memory invites

a prophet to proclaim, the vicious story of his life

 recapturing the clouds of spiny drops of rain

falling on earth drenching himself with pain 


it is delightfully stormy with quiet roar of thunder

the bluish gray eyes of the clouds that willfully wander

just above him to the place where he stately stands

looking as innocent as the hardened statue of grand


strong but meek, inside is a mallows’ heart

soft but unyielding, to the world’s acts of stabs

still standing tall as brave as the old oak tree

tears of the aching heart struggling to be free


the past is gray  catching the rays in sight

holding on to the promise of tomorrow’s light

leaving behind reflections of the days blown over

ready as he is, God is his ultimate mover