Lament of the Storm

A storm approaches, deep and dark, Upon the anguished land it strikes, Trees bend low, their branches stark, Nature recoils, as thunder likes.

The wind howls loud, as if to mourn, The beauty torn asunder, lost, While lightning strikes the burgeoning corn, Each flash a shattering cross.

But in the chaos, wild and free, A primal force awakens the might, A dance of destruction, wild decree, In nature’s heart, a fierce delight.

And when the storm subsides at last, The earth will breathe, refreshed and new, With quiet strength, the die is cast, In nature’s arms, find courage true.

– Nikolai Gumilyov

• Nikolai Gumilyov