Storms

Let the gusts below, And the waves batter. Break my barge apart, Hear the tides tear me asunder. In the cold dark mist, Its deluge upon my face, I will find my base, The lowest I can place. Neath the roiling whirlpool, Lies the eternal dark. Yet my vessel is afloat, Beleaguered, bruised, with broken bark. I fear the torrent, I fear its icy visage, true. Yet not every storm is to be avoided, Some must yet be sailed through.