It Seems I’ve Become a Poet

The Storm
At my back, angry clouds brew trouble.
In my view, a raging sea.
Both wreak havoc.
Turmoil abounds.
Will it ever cease?
I hear a voice say, “Peace —
Be still.”
The sky shares a colorful promise.
The sea gently washes my feet.
My heart is at rest.
Faith brings hope.
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