Waiting For The Storm To Pass

• Erin Power, Grade 6
• Poetry
• 2014

I stand there, letting the cool and clear drops of hydration wash away the pain of the past.

I hear the thunderous claps of God’s footsteps, making a path as long as the eye can see.

I see the beautiful flashes of unearthly light, lighting up the stormy grey sky with icy laughter.
I smell the scent of rivers, lakes and oceans, all merging together in one tidal wave.
In the distance, I see an eerie light.

Something…

Someone…

Calling out to me.

Pleading for me.

Asking me to take its florescent hand….

And part this world.
And not look back.

The figure outstretches its hand, the temptation of passing on.
And I take it.