Damage

I often wonder

if I shot my bow and arrow

of hope

into your darkened clouds of hatred

Would my arrow shoot into your skies

and rip through your clouds of sorrow

to greet the dawn of a new day?

 

Would your damaged thunder

begin to rain down love

upon my upturned face

and outspread arms?

 

Or would your stormclouds

become enraged

and open to reveal

a hurricane

Sent to sweep me off my feet,

carry me to a darker place

And leave me

for dead.