Numbness in my head
Thunder in my heart
To the beat, the raindrops march.
With feathered fingers
Stroking with delight
The charred remains that linger
Tickle the skies
But in my mind
The calmness of the tide.
In the morning the scars will show
Paper-thin, then healed by snow
The waves that crashed, they will subside
And in my mind, the quiet of the tide.