The Storm
I SEE the use : and know my blood
Is not a sea,
But a shallow, bounded flood,
Though red as he ;
Yet have I flows, as strong as his,
And boiling streams that rave
With the same curling force, and hiss,
As doth the mountain'd wave.
2.
But when his waters billow thus,
Dark storms, and wind
Incite them to that fierce discuss,
Else not inclin'd,
Thus the enlarg'd, enragèd air
Uncalms these to a flood ;
But still the weather that's most fair
Breeds tempests in my blood.
3.
Lord, then round me with weeping clouds,
And let my mind
In quick blasts sigh beneath those shrouds,
A spirit-wind ;
So shall that storm purge this recluse
Which sinful ease made foul,
And wind and water to Thy use
Both wash and wing my soul.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Related quotes
The Force that Through the Green Fuse Drives the Flower
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.
The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.
The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.
The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.
And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.
poem by Dylan Thomas
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Today... 'Fountain of living waters
Come and see the crimson flood flowing free
from the cross on the hill of Calvary.
Blood that has flowed from Emmanuel's veins
to wash away all of our sinful stains.
I will not forsake this deep cleansing flow
for it can wash me whiter than the snow.
To the Fountain of Living Water flee
and come for forgiveness at Calvary.
So let's all fear God and shun the evil.
Flee from the temptations of the devil.
But when we sin in repentance we cry
'Lord wash me in Your blood or I shall die.'
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
The Leviathan: Far, Far Down In The Freezing Deeps
(after Alfred Lord Tennyson)
Far, far down in the freezing deeps
where icy water continually over it sweeps
its arms twirls and its body is like a mass of rock
where it for centuries sleeps
and in the dark world below
it lies like a prehistoric monster as if in its grave
while the waves and hidden streams over it flows
and above it break wave upon wave
where it is silent since the devastating flood
hardly notices the waters rush,
while very slowly flows its lifeblood
and it lays waiting in ambush
until the day that Michael returns to earth
to erupt above the waters as if coming from new birth
as a gigantic monstrous thing
with multiple heads and fiery beaks that swing.
[Reference: “The Kraken” by Alfred Lord Tennyson.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Spirit Song Over The Waters
THE soul of man
Resembleth water:
From heaven it cometh,
To heaven it soareth.
And then again
To earth descendeth,
Changing ever.
Down from the lofty
Rocky wall
Streams the bright flood,
Then spreadeth gently
In cloudy billows
O'er the smooth rock,
And welcomed kindly,
Veiling, on roams it,
Soft murmuring,
Tow'rd the abyss.
Cliffs projecting
Oppose its progress,--
Angrily foams it
Down to the bottom,
Step by step.
Now, in flat channel,
Through the meadowland steals it,
And in the polish'd lake
Each constellation
Joyously peepeth.
Wind is the loving
Wooer of waters;
Wind blends together
Billows all-foaming.
Spirit of man,
Thou art like unto water!
Fortune of man,
Thou art like unto wind!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Tunnel of Wind
In a tunnel of wind and blood
My spirit reigns and calls the flood.
My laughter sings now that I’ve began
The ruling of love in this life I ran.
My windy tunnel of hate is gone,
It stopped its blowing when I did yawn.
The living is yet to begin in slumber,
The arms and legs are too much number.
The blood and organs feel again,
This wind is soaring like to airmen.
poem by Naveed Akram
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God is in the wind
Seize the touch of breeze
For a moment, you freeze
Cold things crawling inside
God is in the wind
Haven't you realized
Not visualized
Just felt beyond mind
God is in the wind
Haven't you realized
Not visualized
Just felt beyond mind
God is in the wind
Wind causes change
Wind ceases rain
Wind carves the cave
Wind creates the wave
Balance is throughout maintained
You, me and God are all the same
One flows into another
All is in the wind
God is in the wind
All is in the wind
Nevermind
poem by Siddharth Shah
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Storm
Storms out on the water
I watch it getting closer
Are you coming home
All these years we've wondered
Trying to break the cycle
All these years of hope
And my heart feels the strain
But it makes me feel like I'm alive again
Sometimes in our lives
We need the pain
So I find some candles
Put out all the anchors
Pull the shutters down
Makes me think about us
All the things that got lost
Still we're holding on
And the storm rushes in
But it makes me feel like I'm alive again
Sometimes in our lives
We need the pain
The wind, the rain, the storm will wash us clean again
The wind, the rain, the storm will shake us up again
The wind, the rain, the storm will make us think again
The wind
And maybe we can start again
Storms out on the water
See and sky become one
Are you coming home
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ride On The Wind... Forever...
I Want To Ride On The Wind… Forever
I Want To Ride Over Land and Sea
I Want To Ride on The Wind… Forever
… and I Want You Riding With Me…
I Want To Ride On The Wind Over Mountains
And Touch The Sky, So Blue
Then Raise Oceans, Like Sparkling Fountains
And Splash Through Water, Kissing You
I Want To Ride On The Wind… Hold Its Mane
Ride The Wind… Wild and Free
For The Wind – Will Never Be Tame…
So Hold On Tight and Just… Breathe…
… Ride The Wind – Let It Begin – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Breathe It In – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Blow Again – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Raise The Wind – Ride The Wind!
I Want To Ride On The Wind – In The Moonlight
I Want To Ride On The Wind – In The Clouds
And Wave To The Wings of Eagles in Flight
… then Float like Snow – Dancing Down
I Want To Ride On The Wind Forever
I Want To Ride and Rush-Up Rainbow-Stairs
I Want To Ride On The Wind – Forever
For Your Sweet-Breath Beckons Me… Everywhere
… Ride The Wind – Let It Begin – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Breathe It In – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Blow Again – Ride The Wind
Ride The Wind – Raise The Wind – Ride The Wind!
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Wild Wind
For the time of year, the weather is mild,
But the raging wind is running wild.
The rain has stopped, and now there’s sun,
But the wild wind is very far from done.
Bins are upended – their contents spilled.
Weeping willows wave their long tendrils.
A garden fence rocks dangerously to and fro;
A sudden gust comes along, and over it goes.
By a cottage doorway, wind-chimes dangle;
Caught by the wind, they now joyously jangle.
With such brutal force, I am blown along;
Helped on my way, by the wind, so strong.
Trees take a battering; some have broken boughs.
The wild wind lets out one long, horrendous howl.
Across the ground, crinkled leaves skip and skitter,
As do pieces of paper, crisp packets, and other litter.
The clothes on my washing-line, are, very soon, dry;
They are securely pegged, so that, away, they don’t fly.
By the wild wind, an open gate is slammed, firmly shut.
On the radio, there are numerous reports of power cuts.
The sky is a mixture of dull grey and bright blue;
The weather is undecided on what it wants to do.
By the time evening arrives, the wind has died down;
It gives one last wave, and with that, it slowly drowns.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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A Storm Is Coming
An angry grey comes from the deepening storm
Caressing the wings of petrels, gulls and a
Lone storm riding albatross
Greens curling twisting into grey corners
Black edges spitting razor rain
Wind driven craziness
Smiling predatory hunters gather on the front line
Storms bring nervous food sources
That have lost caution
Thrown it to the wind so easy
This wind that whips up salty froth
The rain rains
Big fish eat
Little fish die
There is a symphony of sound
That no one hears
Storms assume that the world is deaf
There is a hundred colours here
Mixing on this easel of nature
Out here on the sea of bluster
This way and that way
The wind and the waters
The wind and the waves
The wind and the wild
Wanton storm song
That no one else can sing
And the birds wheel and cry
Turn and fly away just before they cant
The beasts of the deep grey green
do the same
Only I cannot turn and fly away
Only I remain and scream at the sight
sound and might.
poem by Geoffrey Fafard
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The Wind(Four fragments concerning Blok)
1
Who’ll be honoured and praised,
who’ll be dead, and abused,
that’s only known these days
to power’s sycophantic crew.
To honour Pushkin or not:
perhaps no one would know,
were it not for their dissertations
that shed light on our darkness so.
But Blok, happily, isn’t like that,
his case is a different one.
He didn’t come down from Sinai
or adopt us as his sons.
Eternal, owned by no programme,
beyond systems and schools,
he’s not been manufactured
or thrust down our throats by fools.
2
As the wind: like the wind. Like the wind
that shrieked on the estate in those days,
when Fil’ka, the postilion still galloped
at the head of a team of six bays.
And grandfather was still alive
crystal-pure Jacobin, radical soul,
his gusty grandson close behind
by a fingerbreadth, and as bold.
That wind, that penetrated
under his ribs, into his spirit,
entered his verse, and was praised,
in good times and in evil.
That wind’s everywhere. The house,
trees, country, and rain,
in his third book of poetry,
in The Twelve, in death – the same.
3
Wide, wide, wide,
river and field stretch away.
It’s haymaking time
it’s communal work today.
And the mowers at the bend
have no time to stand and gaze.
The mowing made Blok wild,
the young squire grasped a scythe,
missed a hedgehog at a swipe,
then two adders were sliced.
But his lessons weren’t complete.
‘You idler, you slacker’, they cried.
Ah, childhood! Ah, school, so dry!
Oh, the songs of the makers of hay!
At twilight, clouds from the east,
north and south are overcast.
Wind, unseasonable and fierce,
suddenly blows in, and hacks
at mower’s scythes, at the reeds,
hacks at the prickly copse,
where the river bends, runs deep.
Ah, childhood! Ah, school, so dry!
Oh, the songs of the makers of hay!
Wide, wide, wide,
river and field stretch away.
4
The horizon’s sinister, sudden,
and dawn is streaked with blood,
like unhealed lacerations
on a reaper’s legs, dark blood.
No counting the gaps in the sky,
tempests and storms, the omen,
and the air of the marsh is high
with water that’s rust and iron.
Over woods, gullies, and roads
over villages and farms,
the lightning in the clouds
prophesies earth’s harm.
When the rim of the city sky
is purple like that, and rusty
the State’s shaken, by and by,
a hurricane strikes our country.
Blok read the writing above.
To him the heavens were set,
on foul weather, presages of
whirlwind, cyclone, tempest.
Blok foresaw that storm and stress.
It etched, with its fiery features,
fear and longing for that excess,
on his life, and his verses.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 01: Clairvoyant
'This envelope you say has something in it
Which once belonged to your dead son—or something
He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?—
The soul flies far, and we can only call it
By things like these . . . a photograph, a letter,
Ribbon, or charm, or watch . . . '
. . . Wind flows softly, the long slow even wind,
Over the low roofs white with snow;
Wind blows, bearing cold clouds over the ocean,
One by one they melt and flow,—
Streaming one by one over trees and towers,
Coiling and gleaming in shafts of sun;
Wind flows, bearing clouds; the hurrying shadows
Flow under them one by one . . .
' . . . A spirit darkens before me . . . it is the spirit
Which in the flesh you called your son . . . A spirit
Young and strong and beautiful . . .
He says that he is happy, is much honored;
Forgives and is forgiven . . . rain and wind
Do not perplex him . . . storm and dust forgotten . .
The glittering wheels in wheels of time are broken
And laid aside . . . '
'Ask him why he did the thing he did!'
'He is unhappy. This thing, he says, transcends you:
Dust cannot hold what shines beyond the dust . . .
What seems calamity is less than a sigh;
What seems disgrace is nothing.'
'Ask him if the one he hurt is there,
And if she loves him still!'
'He tells you she is there, and loves him still,—
Not as she did, but as all spirits love . . .
A cloud of spirits has gathered about him.
They praise him and call him, they do him honor;
He is more beautiful, he shines upon them.'
. . . Wind flows softly, the long deep tremulous wind,
Over the low roofs white with snow . . .
Wind flows, bearing dreams; they gather and vanish,
One by one they sing and flow;
Over the outstretched lands of days remembered,
Over remembered tower and wall,
One by one they gather and talk in the darkness,
Rise and glimmer and fall . . .
'Ask him why he did the thing he did!
He knows I will understand!'
'It is too late:
He will not hear me: I have lost my power.'
'Three times I've asked him! He will never tell me.
God have mercy upon him. I will ask no more.'
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Wind In Mountain Dusk
It couldn't whistle
as nature's wind
whirling shadowed dust
for breathing and disappearing
It couldn't be
as proverbial evil wind
straying fickle-minded
faith believers
It couldn't hiss
the leaves of the pines;
pushing oceans waves
into storms
Confusing, now, but it's not
to chase the wind
in mountain dusk
here in biographical track
transforming wind into dreams
dark and lights........
Narrating my self-alternating pasts.
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
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Midnight
WHEN to my Eyes
Whilst deep sleep others catches,
Thine host of spies,
The stars, shine in their watches,
I do survey
Each busy ray,
And how they work, and wind ;
And wish each beam
My soul doth stream
With the like ardour shin'd ;
What emanations,
Quick vibrations,
And bright stirs are there !
What thin ejections,
Cold affections,
And slow motions here !
2.
Thy heav'ns, some say,
Are a fiery-liquid light,
Which mingling aye
Streams, and flames thus to the sight.
Come then, my God !
Shine on this blood
And water, in one beam ;
And Thou shalt see
Kindled by Thee
Both liquors burn, and stream.
O what bright quickness,
Active brightness,
And celestial flows,
Will follow after
On that water,
Which Thy Spirit blows !
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Where Does The Wind Go
Where does the wind go on cold, cold nights
Out of the sight of the bright sunlight,
Under the gaze of the glowing moon,
When all the world is tired and sleeping;
Moaning and carrying on something fierce
Could it be that the wind is weeping?
Where does the wind hide it's broken heart,
Out on the lake, around the boat
And even when no one’s there to hear,
Does the wind ever look for an alibi
When it's so quiet, you can hear your breath,
But the wind only heaves one threadbare sigh?
Where is the place wind could stay it's breeze;
So fidgety, flighty and full of glee
Holding it's breath till the doors fell in;
The windows all cracking their window jams,
Saving it all for a winter's storm
When the trees bend as low as they can.
poem by Patti Masterman
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NO more SUNSHINE
A new morning arrives but I can't see the sun rise.
All I see is the darken clouds in my light-less skies.
Heavy rain pours down from the clouds on my worn surface
Lighten strike thunder roars another hard hit to embrace
Wind so bitter my skins feel like it's being slice with a razor blade
Everything is being up rooted by the wind that won't fade
I am hold on for life but I seen no end to this destructive force
It's not a known storm; no weather man could've seen the source
It's more like a predator/a carnivore and I'm the main course
Eating at my heart and soul nothing left no remorse
It's the darkness of storm on my most terrifying of days
I prefer my skin get slice repeated with Chicago wind's razor blade
No more tears can fall from these dark clouds of this rain storm
I must accept this faith/find my shelter, and move on
It's easy for me to say now but without you my divine
I feel the rest of my days I will have NO more SUNSHINE
poem by LoKis White
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Breezes
Hard petals of a flower still marry the breeze,
The wind changes every time, all the time.
What breeze is the wind that it freezes our tears?
Cold winter may apologize for our woes,
But does the following season become upright?
The flowing seasons drift in space, in the sky and stars,
When moons and planets reign supreme.
There the seas of blood marry life to death,
Obvious weather is too rude, too fighting our habitat.
The hard flowers under a different sky wonder,
And hard plants are not the same, they are like the tea of Earth.
Breezes are softer than the wind, the wind is kindness,
The wind doubles its burden on creation, as air shall be water;
Water carry on, water is the double trouble of water and air,
It seems the water made plants grow, made growth proper,
With mindless directions in the Sun.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Wild As The Wind (feat. Trisha Yearwood)
Johnny grew up
On the dark side of the law
Livin' in the shadow
Of the light he never saw
Rosie came 'round
In the way that true love does
Just when you're lookin' elsewhere
For the thing that never was
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
So they team up
And they traveled on thier way
Lookin' for forever
For every yesterday
She brings him hope
In the way that Angels do
Takin' him to heaven
In ways he never knew
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Every so often
He gets a stray look in his eye
She knows how to hold him
Without ever askin' why
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild As The Wind
Johnny grew up
On the dark side of the law
Livin in the shadow
Of the light he never saw
Rosie came round
In the way that true love does
Just when youre lookin elsewhere
For the thing that never was
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
So they team up
And they traveled on thier way
Lookin for forever
For every yesterday
She brings him hope
In the way that angels do
Takin him to heaven
In ways he never knew
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Every so often
He gets a stray look in his eye
She knows how to hold him
Without ever askin why
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
Wild as the wind
Wild as the wind is
Wild as the wind is love
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind Eternal And Ever Lasting Wind
Wind eternal and ever lasting Wind
Wherever on earth..there is the element wind
How powerful the strength of the wind
Uplifting a tremendeous deadly tidal wave
Pushing heavy clouds over mountain chain
Magically turning into heavy storm and rain
How fascinating the songs of the wind
Carrying up high the bird on spread wings
Looking almost like the shape of a fairy
So incredibly languishing and airy
How wonderful the feeling of decreasing wind
Blowing incessantly through the season of spring
Blooming flowers seem to shiver in a dance
As falling into a very special kind of trance
How enchanting to play with the wind
The heat blow still lingers
Kite surfs speeding up to be safe
Sails boat surfing on the crown of the wave
How subdued when watching the wind
Reminder of natural forces
Elements like earth wind and fire
For sure they will never ever tire
Wind eternal and ever lasting wind
wherever on earth..there is the element wind…..
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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