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by Tessa Sweazy Webb

The raging storms that come and go
Across our daily path
Are but life's storms of grief and woe
Spilling their bitter wrath;
And all the while
Their shrewd beguile
Is testing out our faith.

Some day
The raging storms that blew
Across my soul, and tore
Asunder all my earthly joys
Shall rage for me
No more.

At evening I shall go to sleep
And waken at the dawn
To find life's storms, bitter and deep,
A quiet, silver calm
Across my lea
And every heart-ache gone.

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