Create an emergency preparedness plan.
Above the trees on level three,
Where wind meets breath so restlessly,
It’s hardly safe when tempests cry—
Yet in my closet, still they lie:
Two bags packed in silent might,
Prepared for day or fearful night.
One bears tools to aid the shaken,
My CERT pack—steady, never shaken.
Gloves, a vest, and light to lend,
For when the world begins to bend.
The other holds my traveler’s share—
Clothes and meds, all packed with care.
A snack or two, not much, but wise,
Enough to walk, should roads disguise.
My exits few, but thought runs deep—
Front steps, or Dad’s old back stair sweep.
If thunder rolls and pressure drops,
I’ll shelter where the shaking stops—
The basement waits beneath our feet,
A haven from the storm’s heartbeat.
Yet when the floods begin to climb,
I’ll rise above the waterline.
From this high perch, I’ll play my part,
An ark of calm, a beating heart.
My family may ascend to me,
Or hold with Dad on level three.
Nine souls, two cars—but hearts aligned,
We’ll make it work, with strength combined.
Though I don’t drive, I do prepare,
With quiet grit and steady care.
This is my vow—my calm, my plan:
To stand, assist, and help who can.
Let danger come; I will not yield—
My heart, my home, my inner shield.
For when the skies grow fierce above,
I’ll meet them all—with light and love.
The Writings of Felina Silver 
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