Grok on At the End
This poem, titled “At the End of Every Storm,” explores the psychological unease that follows the resolution of turmoil. Rather than presenting calm as a welcome relief, the speaker portrays it as a state of vulnerability and exposure, suggesting a complex human attachment to inner conflict.
The opening stanza establishes this paradox: after enduring familiar storms, the return of clarity—“too much light”—feels disorienting and revealing. The vivid imagery of clouds torn “like clotted bandages from the sky of tarnished tin” evokes a wounded atmosphere, implying that storms serve as protective coverings that obscure deeper vulnerabilities.
The second stanza shifts inward, describing the lingering physiological echoes of anxiety—“blood reverberating in our ears”—and the fear of mental transparency. The metaphor of minds “crossed with roiling squall” positions turmoil as a deliberate shield, allowing one’s true intentions (the “tack of our bark,” evoking a ship’s course) to remain hidden amid chaos.
The central assertion—“Something is over. That is enough”—acknowledges closure, yet immediately undercuts it with reluctance: “Yet wouldn’t we rather it not?” This reveals a preference for ongoing disturbance over the “naked” solitude of peace. The poem suggests that humans may seek out “pangs like old friends,” habituated to suffering as a form of companionship.
The closing image of “sunbeams rain[ing] down upon us” through a “bright cleft in the clouds” inverts traditional symbolism: sunlight, typically restorative, here intensifies exposure, underscoring the discomfort of unmediated clarity.
Overall, the poem offers a nuanced meditation on emotional habituation, proposing that inner storms, while painful, provide concealment and familiarity that calm ultimately strips away. The free verse structure and enjambment mirror the unsettled transition from turbulence to stillness, reinforcing the theme of reluctant exposure.