All about her
the storm raged,
incomprehensible in its' horror.
(cold
wind whipping ragged rain icy sleet biting).
Driven to the soaking, cold earth
she writhed
in abject agony.
And none would go to her aid.
Alone,
she cried,
prostrate against the storm's fury,
striving
to claw her way into the very ground
on which she lay,
seeking only shelter
from the storm.
Yet none would offer it
pausing only to push her,
sobbing,
back
into the sucking, cold muck.
Screaming,
her own rage now explodes;
Struggling
against the
icy morass.
Crawling
to her knees.
Refusing
to be crushed
or drowned.
(and still, not one offers a hand
presenting her only their mocking
laughter)
But the light in her eyes,
that very thing
which had brought
the storm
(and its' demons)
jealously on her,
grows,
dimming not
as about her,
the storm
rages still.
Then, her heart quickening,
slowly
she struggles,
pushing,
clawing,
placing
a foot,
against the slippery soil.
Her eyes flame now
with the light of her very own soul.
And the storm turns,
recoiling in mortal fear
from that burning
brightness,
as now
She stands,
erect,
proud,
'midst the quickly gathering light
spilling forth in the wake
of
the fleeing storm.
Calmly,
smiling,
She surveys
the rainbow.
