Poetry

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Beyond the Storm

It’s good, Lord, just to meditate alone
And let your truth my restless mind subdue;
Unchanged while worlds have ebbed and flowed,
Your word flows now in soft assurance to my soul.

Storm-echoes of the thunder fade to peace
And quiet blue the rain-clean sky controls,
And you again, Lord, demonstrate your power
Through stormy wind and fair, you rule.

Untroubled peace would soon breed man’s contempt
And all-sufficient seem his prospered ways
Your care commands the stormy cloud to rise
Lest man unhindered, proud, his soul destroys.

The storms of life, Lord, come at your command.
At that same word in your good time they go.
You care for me, my Lord, in your great love.
I know that you’re in charge -
Be still, my soul.


John Puckett
After a thunder shower in Dorset, August 30th 1992

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