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"The Passing Storm" by Eric Wayne Flynn

Updated on February 14, 2014

"The Passing Storm"

Delivered unto Earth

Blessed in the sun

Dancing in the advanced warning of the storm to come

Laughing as our youth and ignorance mock

We are the children, we are prized

We demand rainbows from the process of pain

Yet sometimes all we are left with is the procession of the rain

Saturating senses

Drops, gang up into puddles

Clouds roll up on us

Hulking with their big broad grey shoulders

Carrying the load of the gods

Dumping buckets at their request

A thick fog arrives at our feet

Lost in the steam of our mad Momma

Calling out to whomever will listen

Screaming to the tree tops

Blinded by rain drops

We emulate the sky

We the salt of the earth

Spread upon the land, poisoning it

Until our breath is lost and we fertilize

Nutrients that she can now utilize

Electric energy flashes hot white across the black backdrop of night

Followed by a thunderous applause

Petrified, our bodies drop


Smacking and sticking in the mud

The question

Wether or not we can weather the storm

Weather protects nature, so be forewarned

Feeble Peons

All menial

Jockeying for position

The death toll rises

We sway in the wind

Destined to suffer our common fate

Products of the passing storm

Born unto the great teacher that is life


Worn for a few days

Tossed a sunder

Souvenirs and relics for the next batch of lovers


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    • Eric Flynn profile image

      Eric Wayne Flynn 3 years ago from Providence, Rhode Island

      I believe we can weather certain storms for sure. Nature always wins out though. Life is a storm and long after I'm gone there will be thunder and lightning and I'll be dust somewhere. This poem has a lot to do with mans God complex, ruling over each other and such, but only the heavens and nature rule and persevere, all great men and women fall to the storm that is life.


    • Dana Tate profile image

      Dana Tate 3 years ago from LOS ANGELES

      Loved this poem Eric, I loved the part " Can we weather the storm"? Sometimes it feels like we can't but the beautiful thing is after a storm everything looks new and there's sunshine and growth that represents new beginnings. Thank's for sharing this beautiful poem.

    • Eric Flynn profile image

      Eric Wayne Flynn 3 years ago from Providence, Rhode Island

      Thanks Jodah, no mercy from the storm, it's been a long winter here in the States and it wears on ya, blah.


    • Eric Flynn profile image

      Eric Wayne Flynn 3 years ago from Providence, Rhode Island

      Thanks Robert, I agree purging is writing. I think sometimes I yack all over the page. This was definitely a downer but it appeared, I blame the torrential rains and snow we've had over this winter. I need spring, this poem coulda been titled seasonal depression, ha.


    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 3 years ago from Queensland Australia

      Yes Eric, life is much like a storm and we are just at its mercy. We have no control over it. Good poem. Voted up.

    • JPB0756 profile image

      Robert A. Joseph 3 years ago

      Eric, as always a thoughtful, complete approach to your subject; though you sound like a Russian friend who escaped the yolk of Communism, barely. Purging and writing are useful and mean the same to you. Thank you for sharing such a deep, driving burn. Hang tough, my friend, nice work, as usual.