Much of the US is experiencing winter storms. Trees have been downed; power has been lost. During these times, we are reminded how dependent we are on electricity.
When my power went out, I was in the middle of a poetry class with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer (www.rosemerry.com). If you've not read any of her poetry, please do. It's full of heart! And, as the wind holed outside, I wrote this poem:
Wind
The wind whips by leafless trees.
Which, in summer, would rustle and bend.
Now they only laugh at the wind, swaying softly to and fro.
The ducks are not so sanguine
as the waves toss them up and down.
Crows try to fly against it, but soon give up.
Darkness comes and the howling intensifies.
Mysteries abound.
Daybreak will reveal the survivors.
Wind has such power. And we have very little power against it. We can harness it at times, but we really cannot control the wind. The humility that the wind teaches us is, I think, a good thing. We benefit from reminders that much less is in our control than we would like. We would benefit from hearing wind's lesson.
