WHERE THE STORM GOES SILENT

WHERE THE STORM GOES SILENT

By Sam Tumblin

There is a place where the thunder dies,
where chaos holds its breath
and silence looks you in the eyes
like something waiting for death.

I have stood there before—
between the breaking and the calm,
with yesterday scattered across the floor
and tomorrow hiding its face from dawn.

The winds may tear at everything
you thought you knew by heart,
but even hurricanes lose their sting
when you refuse to fall apart.

Perhaps strength was never the roar,
never the fist raised against the sky.
Perhaps it is standing at the door
of everything you fear
and simply asking why.

Because storms don’t always come to destroy.
Sometimes they strip away the disguise,
leaving nothing but the truth
beneath the frightened eyes.

And when the darkness finally passes,
when the wind has spent its breath,
you may discover something unexpected—

you were never standing
in the eye of the storm.

You were becoming the calm.

By Sam Tumblin