Treasure box for those who survive horrible events

Written for those who survive horrible events
by a friend who as a child lived through the bombing
of Germay (but not Dresden) in WWII

A Treasure Box

The winds of fortune blow hot and cold,
No one's pot holds only gold.

The tides come in and the tides run out,
bringing and taking promise and doubt;

Joy and pain, all the same;
unpredictable, on any given day,
the winds of fortune will have their way,

What you imagine is yours to hold;
in a treasure box much more true

than anything else that happens to you.

You can fire it up on the darkest day,
and the winds of fortune won't have their way.