2:22 AM

The bones are tired,

but the will is strong -

unbending like the mountain

who stood witness to millions of sunrises

promised to a wuthering sky.

Lightning cracks,

but rain smooths away the damage,

a refreshing dip into the tears of angels.

Oh, how I love the rain!

To feel alive beneath its fall

is a gift toward my rise -

ascension of an indomitable will

born of wars fought in darkness,

only now just seeing the beauty

of the sinking suns.

Night beckons sleep,

but dreams beckon curiosity -

the creative soul

of one whose tired bones

have found joy dancing

in the downpour.