Better By Nightfall

The storm has passed
the rain has stopped,
but the possibility still lingers

Although the gray clouds have since drifted
they still form over the horizon in the distance
bellowing of tribulations to come

But for now
the ground is fertile,
supple in its gestation
It's ready to be molded
to be folded
to. . . produce

The seeds are ready to be sown
and though there are but few I can place
the more I will sow
Not in hopes that they will grow
but rather,
   like hope,
as chance that potentially gives way to something more
something enlightening
something profound
worthy of its harvest
even in the smallest

For although the clouds are distanced,
in time they will come to pass
Challenging in grandeur and scope
they will wage war on this land
this. . . potential
But whether the seeds scatter
to fields of unknown fate
or stay fastened feverishly in warring uncertainty
remains to be said
   and seen;
proven

Whether reaped or raped
only time will tell
After the seeds are sown
and the clouds pass in turn,
After the rainfall
and the rattling wind
The dust will settle
and vision
  restore
but what stands, if any,
in place
has yet to be extolled