I hear the wind and rain outside,
Howling and pelting so fierce.
And as it increases in intensity
My poor ears does it pierce.
I fear ‘tis nature’s fury
Tending to what it does best,
Cleaning up the atmosphere
Before it takes a rest.
I listen and wait until it’s gone
And all is quiet again.
It’s then I’m peaceful and prayerful
That no harm has come to men.
I step outside to take a breath
And listen to the stillness now.
Then I see a branch that’s fallen
And underneath the bough
A tiny creature whose form is still,
A victim of wind and rain.
And as I struggle to set him free
I see it’s all in vain.
For he’s not among the living ones.
He’s at peace with his fate.
He was part of nature’s fury
Before it did abate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem