Baptism by FireA Poem by PeteFrom the right point of view, every storm and every drop in it is a rainbow. - Thoreaucongregating intermingling interwoven like cottons strands they darken growing angry their complexions morphing from white to gray to black off in the distance, thunder rattles growing ever closer growing ever louder louder louder rattling my cage from birth to death at every age will he speak to me from a whirlwind? is it a covenant or a means to rescind? rain bursts forth heavier heavier a second morphs into an eternity is it real? a figment, a prayer? a prophesy? the end of the world as we know it? truth destined for worsting bursting curtain call or mere rehearsing? parched thirsting everything drinks it in just as has always been done since time begin i knock but no one will let me in am i saint or sinner? hell's loser or heaven's winner? a spent, manna-gathering breadwinner? callously experienced or a lotioned beginner? i'll keep an eye to the sky collecting rain for the outer tears for the inner a listening ear for the bell of dinner as the storm grows more troubling and the crack 'neath the door of my soul casts a shadow, ever thinner © 2026 PeteAuthor's Note
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