We knew something was coming,
But no one would dare speak its name.
We were weatherbeaten,
Survivors of an onslaught of recent storms,
And here we were again,
Awaiting the invisible inevitable.
We looked up to the skies,
Awaiting a sign.
Perhaps the movement of the birds,
Or the twinkling of the stars,
Would reveal our fate.
Or perhaps, it would come
Like a thief in the night.
The storm was coming,
That much we knew,
But in the meanwhile,
We had the calm,
The stillness to sit in,
And contemplate our fate.
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