Rage On

Sweet and gentle
the patter of the rain.
Now tamed and docile,
just like my soul.
Not long ago
the thunder rolled
angry and boisterous.
Violent and intimidating.

Inner turmoil
violently churning,
thundering on,
striking where is wants,
unpredictable and aggressive.
Then,
it passes.
Replaced by the sweet, soft patter
of refreshing rain.

Or tears.
No longer violent.
Falling softly
from my face.
The storm has passed.
The refreshing and renewal has begun.
-Carrie Horn