Until the Last End

It was a rainy hazy afternoon in a mid-summer
I sat in a rented tent on a small island in Scotland
Tired and exhausted after a fifteen-hour trip
There I was solo camping in the middle of nowhere

I could hear the raindrops hitting the tent
Loud and noisy I found it disturbing
Ah, it shouldn't be this bad!
Self comforting

I sat still trying to calm my anxious soul
Plea and prayer were my only companions
Quietness instilled slowly and gently
And the noise of the raindrops turned to rhythms
I learned then how to become friend with rain

We are tired and exhausted
Hurt and disappointed
Yet dying flowers beholding their beauties till the last end
Knowing there is a season for everything
Resting at the Maker's hands

Dear soul, aren't you blessed
To witness the goodness of the Creator?

— Fillia —