Immoveable

Shadows shift, stir, and scrape against the edges of me,
whispers winding, winding, winding... doubt, desire, despair.
I reached, I recoiled, I rued the weight of wanting,
the ache of thinking myself fractured, foreign, forgotten.

Then the storm rose.

A violent malevolence... wind tearing through old bones,
lightning fracturing fear, thunder pounding self loathing,
rain drumming the hollow echoes of yesterday.
I became the tempest and the tremor,
the lightning strike and the stone it shattered upon.

And slowly, as all storms must, it ebbed.
Clouds parted, sunlight sifted, soft and deliberate.
A whisper in the quiet: It is finished.

I stand now unshaken.
Silent steel cold... where doubt once lingered,
focus where longing raged,
discipline where despair tried to dwell.

I am the rock, the anchor, the refuge...
for presence, for blood, for burden.
The storm taught me its fury,
and the Rock inside me holds still,
immovable, alive, eternal.