by Jeanne Dininni

Created on: January 01, 2007   Last Updated: May 14, 2007

The Tempest

Angry ebon clouds amass and move in dread formation.
Torrential rains wait orders to descend.
Lightning cues impending thunder's bold reverberation;
And gusty gale makes oak, like sapling, bend...

As far as eye can see, dense storm clouds hang, a fearful bower.
Tonight, the most one hopes for is to sleep.
And like a frightened child in mother's arms, small creatures cower
In night's embrace, as chill mists 'round them sweep...

To dwell indoors on nights like these is fortune beyond measure,
As blinding sheets of water drench the earth.
When thunder echoes lightning's force, and wind, with wicked pleasure,
Snaps boughs like twigs, we sense dear shelter's worth...

So foul a night assails the calmness of the human spirit,
As surely as it lashes at the door.
But faith that speaks from deep within empowers those who hear it
To heed the storm-the tempest to ignore.

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