These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

Asleep in the Storm

The wrathful clouds make dark their threats
to weary my stretched heart.
My thoughts of what's to come bring sweats,
and sparks of fear do start.

"Can ever there be hope, again?
Can all be whole, aright?"
"My arms are here. Your hope is thin.
I have the needed might."

The cloudy days have small duress.
This life is rather short.
Their lightning strikes and booms impress,
until these times abort.

Just rest in Him, Who sleeps through the tests.
The barque so tossed and turned,
Just trust the heart of He, Who rests
when others’ hope has burned.

The place to sleep, though soaking wet
becomes a feather bed
when the peace of Christ, Who paid the debt,
fills the heart of one once dead.

by Jay O’Toole
on July 1st, 2021