How winds have howled! How all small life lay low,
Trembling in the face of awesome pow’r!
What courage did these tall trees, silent, show
Standing stalwart in that dreadful hour!
With how much fury did the lashing rain
Obscure all hope of visibility?
With what great effort every inch we gained,
Determined by most grim necessity?
How many the directions of the wind
Caught us, all unexpected, in their midst? —
But now, at last, it seems we may begin
Perceive some hopeful thinning of the mist
Which, if continues as is first begun,
Brings back to us the friendly warming sun
The poet/editor of this website is physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and is presently homeless. Contributions may be made at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts