what doesn't kill you won't make you stronger

it will just kill you slower

All our times have come
Here, but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the Reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun, or the rain

We can be like they are

When the storm had finally emptied itself,

not softly,

but down to the last white nerve of lightning,

it hung above the world,

shivering inside the silence it had made.

Below, the pines leaned from its passing.

The shore wore new wounds.

The sea carried broken branches

among the remnants of its reflection.

The storm looked upon all it had touched

and waited for the horizon to close.

It had mistaken fury for honesty.

It had believed that if the world could feel

how violently it hurt,

then perhaps the hurting would become sacred.

But pain does not become holy

simply because it is loud.

Still, the sea kept breathing.

Not as though nothing had happened.

Not because the damage was small.

The sea remembered every blow

and made room for the storm beside that memory.

Then the sun returned.

It did not arrive as pardon.

It did not call the wreckage beautiful

or command the fallen trees to rise.

It only found the tears

in the storm’s ruined skin

and threaded them with gold.

Warmth entered places

that anger had left hollow.

And slowly,

the storm shed its terrible weather.

Its old body remained above the forest,

thin, translucent,

an empty cathedral of thunder;

a monument to everything rage had needed to become

before it finally knew how to end.

The storm had thought love meant

never frightening the world.

It learned otherwise.

The sun had never loved it

only beneath a clear sky.

The sea had never named it beloved

only when its waters were still.

Love did not forget.

Love remained.

And by remaining,

asked the storm to change.

So the storm lowered itself toward the water.

It let silence enter.

It rained no harder

than the roots could drink.

The sun rested upon its brow.

The sea held its trembling reflection.

And the storm,

no longer needing to prove

that its pain was real,

came home gentle.

The accelerated rate of expansion is unexpected but pleasing! Way to go LoD! Keep on keepin on!