A Valediction to "Goodbye"


FORWARD:

Just seven years old, I was curled up in bed. Burrowed deep under layers of covers, I was warm in my cuddly pajamas.

Lost in the distant land where I was free to be what I wanted to be, I was hesitant to leave. But isn't that how life always is? One is hesitant to leave one's present comfort for fear that the next will not be nearly as good as the former.

Nevertheless, my present comfort was sleep, and it was being disturbed. Loud crescendos filled the air. Pungent smells of things washed clean wafted to my chill-kissed nose. Brilliant flashes of light. Colors redefined. A thunderstorm.

Not just any thunderstorm either. I watched this one from the 12th floor balcony of the family apartment in France. And it was beautiful. The more that streaks filled the once vacant skies, the more I was in awe of the power of God. That he should think the world needed one of me too.

Overflowing with wonder at the world my God created, thunderstorms became my favorite thing. I was just seven years old.

Storms often equate a negative connotation. And it is quite true, I've had my fair share of "bad" storms in life. I've loved and I've lost. I've given and been taken from. But I've had "good" storms too. I've had the blessing of being lost in the rush of joy's torrents.

I am now 18, saying farewell to the word "goodbye". "Goodbye" imposes the imminent finality of something. This stage of my life, living overseas, is soon coming to a (hopefully only) temporary close. And I don't want this stage of my life to end permanently. I'd like to hope that living overseas will happen again.

My challenge for you is that you will walk through both the "good" and "bad" storms of life knowing that nothing on this earth is final. This now, this here, is just temporary. May you find the thunderstorms bring torrents of joy, in addition to sorrow's undulations. May you grow into each and every challenge with the sensation of being washed clean.

Today, it is with great pleasure that I am releasing Philip Kendall's "Thunderstorm". Deserving of a standing ovation, this piece of nostalgic poetry will leave you longing for just a little more. With elevated diction, and lofty imagery, Philip leaves no stone unturned.

My hope is that you will be as touched as I was, inspired to take delight in even the thunderstorms of life.

- Grace Columbine

01/15/2020

 

Thunderstorm

I look to the west, and the sky is clear

The clouds take on the common forms

Starships, castles, with walls most sheer.

I look to the east, lo! A thunderstorm,

A wall-less ceiling of creeping cloud,

Ever it shifts and is transformed.

The wind is rising and grows loud,

The air is brown from dust; it seems

Old plastic bags fall from the clouds.

The air is filled with shouts and screams,

The people close and bar their doors

As the storm swallows the sun’s last beam

Collecting dried clothes was a chore,

Now it’s a hectic race ‘gainst time

Time, and the menacing storm

Tall trees barely shivered when climbed,

And though strong and proud down to the core,

They now bow and scrape like scum and slime.

The storm has come as though for war,

It throws harpoons of light and heat

They crash and smash across sky’s shore

The thunder’s crash cannot be beat,

It’s used to describe – no other sound

Can ever mock it in defeat

The rain now rakes across the ground,

Now it drizzles from the air,

Thunder gives way to a softer sound.

The storm is gone – no man knows where!

-Philip Kendall

Latest Edition written 12/07/2019

 

Meet the Author

Philip Kendall has graced Dakar Academy's Central Campus with his presence since August of 2019. Equipped with witty humor, philosophical inquiries, and a God-given way with words, Philip has been filling the world with well-written works since he could hold a pencil.

The award winning (1st place in No-Shave November) author has talent enough to knock you to your knees in contemplation of life's complexities. Bold in his pursuit of captivating audiences across the globe, Philip draws inspiration from that fountain that is his own life's experiences.

Each literary piece carries with it a new perspective, fresh eyes. With so many inspirational outlooks on life, one cannot help waltzing through a new day.

It has been my great pleasure to work with Philip on this blog share. It is my hope to be blessed with the privilege of publishing and releasing more of his written works in the future.

Here's to fresh eyes, and happy reading!