The storm came through overnight
I slept
The evidence of its path left behind
While I slept
Seeking not to judge it
I woke
All that I had laboured for in my garden
Fallen or destroyed
And yet, a calm serenity existed
And the clean up began
There will be others
And still I will sleep
Seasons are the essence of life
Leaving behind memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem