Poetry

The Lull

by John Puckett 
11/20/22
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The Lull

Strange quietness before the storm
As though the waiting air
Breathed in to brace itself
Against the coming blast.

And far above the deep-lulled earth
Like furious remnants
Of some elemental race,
Cloud scraps, distorted,
Curl in brief illumination
Cross the moon.

A man looks up
And knows that earthly peace
At best is fragile, brief,
And often, dark beyond
The present settled calm
The storms of life
Stride swiftly
On the winds of time.

What need
To find my rest
In Him alone
The Prince of Peace!
His heart-born calm
Is not disturbed
By earthly tempests wild.
He rules the raging storm itself
And speaks superior power
To fear-filled hearts
“Be still.”

Mark 4:39 - Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.