Tonight there was a dreadful storm
and I trembled in nervous terror.
So loud the thunder! So bright the lightening
as it bolted through the darkness of the sky!
I whimpered and buried my tear-streaked face
in the hem of my faded flannel gown.
With each flash and boom, I shuddered!
With each pause in clatter I remembered
Momma’s words as she tucked me safely into bed.
“There have always been storms on this earth,
my dear, yet we all fear a stormy night!
The answer to fear lies in subtle distractions.
Ask questions to occupy your mind!
Would there be a calm after the storm
if it didn’t ever storm?
How would we know the sweet smell of rain
if it didn’t ever rain?”
In deep concentration, my terror subsided;
like the storm outside had done.
I tip-toed down to Momma’s room
to tell her I wasn’t afraid.
I knelt by her side and found her asleep,
breathing so effortlessly even.
Through shadows I noticed she held to her cheek
the hem of her faded flannel gown.
Had Momma been frightened, just like me,
yet bravely she slept through her fear?
With new-found courage, I crept back to bed
and slept to the rhythm of the rain.