I sit, listening to the rain dancing on the old tin roof. Life, its mysteries and wrongdoings rage through my mind like an emotional holocaust, sending me spinning out of control. Gripping onto belief and holding onto a hope I wait out the tumult, looking for a break in the clouds to escape the nightmare. A slight glimmer of light in the sky raises my hopes, but the darkness descends once again, erasing the tease.
The wind howls through the trees and the whispers call me to enter the darkness and seek out a path that does not yet exist. So I sit and wait. I know that once the storm clears, the path will open and I will be able to move forward.