Behind this dark cloud,
A Bright Sun is waiting to Shine.
Ever so patiently, its warmth stays constant.
Never fleeting, never Waning.
It's easy to forget when it can't be seen.
After every storm there it remains.
So much brighter that the last time.
The same Sun.
It's brightness and beauty seem foreign,
beautifully foreign.
Even in times of cold, darkness
the Sun never leaves.
Watching its golden rays emerge from the clouds
is never the same as the last.
Each time a new found respect is formed.
A new sense of gratitude.
The Sun is the same,
It's during the storm
that We change.
For now I let the tears fall.
Because I Know that the Sun
will Shine again.
.
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