A Twig (by FJ)

Ominous dark could loomed over a petite shoreline hamlet,
submerging it in fatal-shadows, thumping hell behind. Restless gargantuan ocean waves thrashed over the frail shores striving to convey an infuriated memorandum of nature heeded not to the emblematic caveat, boorish folks went-about their routine.

Time stopped - not knowing the day or the night; as hell broke loose,
When the mammoth ripples rose, hungrily gulping every living body
and non-living alike, spewing hate against mankind for molesting mother earth,
time and again past many millennium and beyond.

Chaos, every where, screaming and wailing for a born hearing-impaired to hear,
gushing water, ripped-up houses, like a rag lying on shore, formidable
dance of death lay bare its’ horror, guzzling the hamlet’s last breath,
frantic men and women their attempt to subsist sank beneath the nature’s gruesome fury.

Wrinkled old John Struggling like the hundreds around, dogged to hold on to any thing and every thing, hard fortune for hundred, lucky providence for John, grabbed a twig that hung, held on as though a precious possession, hours perhaps days, until he heard rescuer call, opened his eyes, stunning sun shone through the twig he held, from a chapel -cross.

Life is nothing less but a huge tussle; ignore not any tiny twig that puzzle
it may well be our Lord’s call to unshackle you from daily-life’s scuffle.

by: FRANCO JOSEPH