tempest kind of day

I am feeling very tempestuous today.
My insides gather and slam into my rib cage,
frothing and foaming like the unruly Sea as storms aproach.
I am Caliban, wild and unruly.
I could strike out and knock over buildings.
My sighs could lay flat a field of wheat.
The roll of my eyes is nearly audible.

The only thing I can do in such times is pray and read poetry. This helped. One of my favorite poets; so familiar sometimes.

When the wind works against us in the dark,
And pelts with snow
The lowest chamber window on the east,
And whispers with a sort of stifled bark,
The beast,
‘Come out! Come out!’--
It costs no inward struggle not to go,
Ah, no!
I count our strength,
Two and a child,
Those of us not asleep subdued to mark
How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length,
--How drifts are piled,
Dooryard and road ungraded,
Till even the comforting barn grows far away
And my heart owns a doubt
Whether ’tis in us to arise with day
And save ourselves unaided.

~ Robert Frost, A Boy's Life, 1915


TSOldtimer said…
HA! I could hear your eyes roll from here!
Thanks TSO! I knew you would appreciate that!
Amos said…
Monster, you alluded to something being on your blog yesterday but I am still confused... why don't you call me sometime?

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