When It Rains [Original Poetry]

When it rains,

it hurricanes,

flipping my umbrella inside out,

my world

upside down.

If I could see to face the sky,

I’d shout and shake my fists; I’d roar

into the rush of wind.

I’d demand you tell me

why

I’m afloat in this ocean and out in this storm.

I just don’t know.

I just

don’t

know.

And yet as long as I stay swimming still,

I can point myself

toward hope.

I am not drowning in this mess, and I

am

not

alone.

Above, beyond these clouds,

Heaven crackles with the lightning glory

of my God,

the silver in this gray.

He is the cloud that pours

all good and perfect gifts.

And when it rains,

it must be

grace.