Out-Wait the Gale

During the "cold-seasons" in life, poetry is my release. I'm hoping to share some happier poems once the sun shines in my world again. And it will.


“Out-wait the Gale”
3/16/12

Windy times.
No end in sight.
The gales do blow
All day. All night.

I cannot rest.
I can’t recall
A time without
These winds at all.

I wish this storm
Would pass me by,
I wish for spring,
And warm sunshine,

And though I know
For everything
There is a time,
And seasons bring

Both serene warmth
And bitter cold;
It’s just these gusts
Are growing old.

I wish that I
Could hibernate
Until the storm
At last does break,

And beams of light
Pierce through the clouds,
And teardrops dry,
And sun rains down.

But in this season
I will grow,
Like flower buds
Beneath deep snow.

I will not fret
Nor hide, nor wail.
I’ll bide my time:
Out-wait the gale.