Anne Hope

Broken branches fleeing
before furious winds
forcing my little Fiat
into the face of the storm
bucking like a frightened horse
as it confronts the gale
seething streaks of lightning
replicating the rhythms
of the riotous elements
in the cocooned cabin
of my racing heart.
Closing in around me
in dark swirling clouds:
the Power of God .

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