Unrelenting fury
Pounding majestic power
Sweeping away obstacles
Dragging debris in its path
Rendering the efforts of mere humans worthless
Putting on a display of real might
Who will stand against it?
Try to change its course ?
Only the foolish
Or the tired of living
Such purity and splendour
Is to be revered for its beauty
Admired from a safe distance
It is useless to fight it
Better to contemplate and be at one with it
Part of all that it stirs,
Carried along by its energy.
Calmed by its fury
Knowing in the bubbling, seething melee
The still small voice.
I wax lyrical about the tidal surges pounding Britain today and find, in them, a living reminder of the Spirit, surging its path through our lives with such energy that surrender seems the best course.
Lovely, energetic photo; beautiful waxing lyrical. You're a gem, Liz.
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