Hot and heavy,
It burns like the sun on a summer’s day.
Relief, elusive
As a breeze in the stillness of fiery hate.
I seek shelter,
And I find none.
I look for peace,
And find only thunder and lightening.
As the desert cries for rain,
My soul cries for three small words:
I forgive you.
©Norine Acevedo and Norine’s Notebook, 2013
Norine's Notebook 