Faith crisis poetry

After the Storm

  1. Ruby red, no, scarlet red, the blood stains on their hands.
  2. Innocence delayed ten years, now teach them how to dance
  3. Orange like the glowing coals of fire dying out;
  4. Bellows, worn and tired now, have fin’lly shut their spout.
  5. Yellow sun has dimmed its light, its service drawn to close
  6. Tried so hard to shine so bright, but succumbed to the blows
  7. Trees so green have withered dry, poor shelter from the rain;
  8. Stinging drops come pelting down, unleashing bruise and pain.
  9. Bluest skies are just a trick, a clever sleight of hand.
  10. We think it’s true, but when in space, it’s then we understand.
  11. Purple robes and aprons tell us, “All of it is love.
  12. Come to us from down the street, descended like a dove.”
  13. Rainbows come after the storms, or so I’ve heard them say,
  14. But first, I guess, we have to wait for storms to go away.

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By Kim Siever

Kim Siever is an independent queer journalist based in Lethbridge, Alberta. He writes daily news articles, focusing on politics and labour.

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