Somedays, it just doesn’t feel so whimsical

The rain pours down like an avalanche

The bills pile up, threatening to bust the dam

The kids get sick, losing time from your livelihood

The spouse awakens as if you’ve committed a wretched evil

Temptations reign and habits of old come creeping, seeking to find you

There must be an anchor down deep inside

There must be still waters no man can shake

There must be a hope which sustains through yesterday and points to tomorrow

When Hope lives within, the storms may rage; yet, the rock will stand.

Penned – MG – 10/30/19