The Storm

I Ran to the forest for shelter, Breathless, half sobbing; I put my arms round a tree, Pillowed my head against the rough bark. "Protect me," I said. "I am a lost child." But the tree showered silver drops on my face and hair. A wind sprang up from the ends of the earth; It lashed the forest together. A huge green wave thundered and burst over my head. I prayed, implored, "Please take care of me!" But the wind pulled at my cloak and the rain beat upon me. Little rivers tore up the ground and swamped the bushes. A frenzy possessed the earth: I felt that the earth was drowning In a bubbling cavern of space. I alone-- Smaller than the smallest fly--was alive and terrified. Then for what reason I know not, I became trium- phant "Well, kill me!" I cried and ran out into the open. But the storm ceased: the sun spread his wings And floated serene in the silver pool of the sky. I put my hands over my face: I was blushing. And the trees swung together and delicately laughed.