Matthew…

Storm clouds

Loom overhead

Rain and wind scream loudly

But I’m safe inside my wood box,

Matthew.

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Life…

Life has a certain

rhythm

An ebb and flow to

it all.

Just quiet down and

listen

You will surely hear

the call.

Between the passing

ripples

Upon the cresting

barrage

Above the noisy

racket

Beneath the quiet

facade.

There you will find life

waiting.

Waiting to be lived…

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There are moments…

There are moments

when life seems

surreal,

and I

am merely

a passenger.