When your toes tingle
And your fear presses into your soul
And you are scared to think
You try to keep your mind blank
Every thought plummets into your
conscience.
Every move thrust into the war zone
Every pause accuses
you of something you
are afraid you did.
You long for a touch
For a voice, for a song
You think you expect too much
From the air, from the ground.
You wonder where's the source
Of your long-sought peace and joy
You flail and reach for a force
you're too weak to employ.
But I see the rain coming
To clear away your drought
To fertilize your dry ground
Peace shall be found.
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