She’s crashing in my ears again
bleeding onto the shore
who thought of her as quiet and peace
should think that way no more
were they to hear her antics now
in the wildness of her roar.
In gusts and flurries around my head
she oozes out her breath
beating a tune through swaying trees
‘til it seems there is nothing left
and yet, she whispers in my ear
there is no such thing as death.
With unending energy or so it seems
she dances round and round
spinning stories as she goes
with the shape of her dervish sound
in spirals she moves
telling the tales that must be told aloud.
Then listen we must, to what she says
before the darkness descends
for what could be worse in all of this
than the night that never ends?
Oh, pay heed now and pay it well
in time to make amends.
© Áine Fortune 2019