‘Wild at Heart’
The house physically sways, like a tree in a storm.
Wooden beams, made to flex in an earthquake, take the force.
The tin roof magnifies the sound of every broken branch,
twisted with the whistle of the wind.
I’m glad of the refuge that is my home.
The comfort of wind chimes amongst the sounds of the wild.
I’m glad of my feet that stand on level ground,
as I watch seagulls, swept towards the cliffs,
struggling to glide on the tempestuous wind.
The wild wind that twists, torments and erodes,
also excites in its dramatic unfolding.
Senses on high alert, nerves jangled, the physical body so vulnerable.
Waves crash on the rugged coast,
showing no mercy in their powerful crescendos.
My heart rides high on the rocky precipices,
tolerating each blow with reluctant surrender.
Powerless to change the course of the elements,
accepting and waiting for the return of the calm.
© Sarah Lee, 2012
Linking up with…