I on solid ground

there is a storm raging
across the heavens

I see the dark
destructive clouds
gather
swarm and rumble

wind gusts with the lash
of driven rain
I feel the cut
I wear the blows

and still I stand
I
in the temple
of my home

I stand
inside the doors
no room for storms

rage

rage

rage you loudly
amongst the night
and darkness
but I
am holding
to the flame
that shows me clear
who am I
and why am I

I can stand
against terrors
flashed white on black
across the heavens

for here
on solid ground
am I

---

© Frank Prem, 2016

Poem #32: shopping (every day)