Hurricane of anger and winds
       of rage.
Wave after wave pounding
       my spirit.
Ravaging winds blowing the
       sands,
so that chaos and confusion
       fill my mind.
The furious sea tossing
       debris,
randomly upon the beach.
Suddenly, the storm subsides,
       and one solitary man waits.
The son of man waits,
in quiet patience He waits.

Awareness fills my spirit,
as the debris lies there
       on the surface of my mind.
Tangled seaweed of resentment and blame.
Gnarled driftwood of control.
Empty clam shells of shame and quilt.
Sharp edged broken shells of anger.
Huge stinging jellyfish of fear,
waiting to inflict pain on those I
       love.

       Still He waits,
as I begin to gather all
       the old debris.
And as the sands  
       are cleared and smooth,
and as the sea so peacefully,
       rolls upon the shore,
His light of love begins to
       shine,
on gifts the storm has left.
Gifts I would have never found,
among the old debris.
So now we walk together,
on sands of peace and love,
Knowing storms will come again,
       upon this soul of mine.
Yet now I walk alone no more.
Through storm or calm He guides
       my soul,
to gifts upon the sand.