Some days
it hurts to wake up
and handle
the wolves
the storms
Those we have chosen
to take care of
the innocent
that need our voice
But jump in
we must
the rolling
the pitching
the tossing
We seek
a lifeline
a piece of wood
a hand
Slowly it immerges
the kind word
the song
the phone call
Remembering
stumbling
coughing
out of the water
Still the storm rages
no resolution
but an umbrella
