If at dusk a dark storm looms and breaks deep inside, harden yourself for fear will scorch and score your soul. Forgive yourself some pity as life’s unsettled waves tear, view is bleak and you feel suddenly small and wearingly weak. Are you hampered knowing no lap or shoulder is close enough to seek!
If rain with aggression starts to threaten blasts of hurt so vile, permit only a tailored trickle obscured by softening mist. Little fish persist. Remind yourself that sacred is the place your crippling cries are born at source. Though strong and loud even they cannot reach lost solid ground.
If tears refuse to subside, then let them run down tired lines and watch them drop from your face to a distant place. They will blur the ink once sharp and cushion sorrow that is past. Console yourself, the splash below does pale the shade to grey in which a silver lining lays.
If anger fails and strength prevails against the vicious bite then swim headlong in, meet the stare of that eye so grim. With all your might blind and blight that cursing storm, remove the callous cruel thorn. Calm yourself then snatch your piece of new horizon within your reach.
If caution holds, change direction in opposite swim. Out there a frost may still exist and armoured with a mindless fist. Jack’s a lad with many names, though someone’s sun, guard against this bitter one. Allow yourself some trust again, give yourself some hope of men.
Dusk is done and Dawn has won.