O intimate one who blows Chill greeting to my spine And lifts around my head Locks of serpentine,
Laces my shaggy beard With whirling tide of sleet Or runs the valleys' breadths On stealthy cat-like feet,
My hands are frozen blocks O tearer of the sea The ropes like irons burn O wind of misery.
Wind of widows' tears Children watch and wait At windows pocked with rime, To inmost fears abate.
O furnace of the east Whose devil-dance and dust With thy companion burn Earth's body to a crust
Or suck from thirsty land The last sustaining drop Of life and in the sands Bury the human crop,
Thy tyranny resist Wind of gale and foam, Carry this spirit-ship Swiftly, safely home.
Poems 2024 (691)
Home
Disciples
Narad
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.