A Weathered Storm

I sit upon a rock on the shore, the wind blowing, distant rumbling. A storm approaching on the horizon, a wall of black pushing back the blue sky. The wind grows stronger, the waves begin to wash up higher upon the stony beach, the ground trembles from the thunder. Still I remain upon the rock, outwardly mimicking that which I sit upon. Inwardly my heart begins to race faster, faster with each rumble and each vibration through the rock. A soft rain starts, it is cool on my face, still I remain as the rock. The soft rain turns to a hard beating rain, the rumble of the thunder is constant, great booming blasts rip through my core, still I remain as the rock. The rain turns to hail, the wind whips around me.  Suddenly, blue sky appears on the horizon, still I remain as the rock. The warm sunlight shining, a gentle breeze on my face, still I sit upon the rock on the shore.