Faith is my 'umbrella.'

When trouble rains, it pours . . .
thunder roars though my veins.
Flash--lightening--shall reign.
Everybody wants a ‘drop’;
I change directions . . . flip-flop.
Silently showers fall
into torrent cascades--
in all charcoal gray shades.
Misery, enfolds, wraps me--
channeling in valleys.
When trouble rains, storms rage
as the pressure collides . . .
some come cloudy, disguised.
Rain dances a fancy swirl
and give sweet hope a whirl.
Some folks stomp in the street
glad the drought has ended;
other sit, offended.
The dirt and grime settle down . . .
when trouble come to town.
When trouble rains, hail flies.
All are knocked off our feet
feeling worn, weary, beat.
Death and destruction are neigh
but some ne’er seem to die.
At its end a rainbow
colors, ties up, the sky
teasing tears in our eyes.
The eye of the storm . . . lingers
touches out-stretched fingers.
When trouble rains, faith pours
majestically reigns.
Faiths' ‘umbrella’ eases pain.
The raging rain will break, cease . . .
peace comes upon . . . bent knees.