Hurricane.

Look above a thousand trees,

Slowly landed in the world of night,

Laid her on my cold hand

Her eyes to the silent water

Lit by the moonshine,

Black as night over arctic ice

Stomping heels down curved hills

The high peak and the sky of her stare

Where does it start, where does it end

I’m lost in the line between earth and air

She sat with me that day

And as the hour of dawn fell upon her

A sound of music went before my view,

Though we feel but our own beat

So did a peek of landfall grow,

Reflected on the pitch black serene

Feathers of green and locks of gold

Chained the heart of one wild and bold

And among visions of the light that bash my face

The roaring deep of the dark bull struck my ear;

Faint as shade,

Mean as a fist tightly clenched,

Their teeth grind with passion

And may long roads lead its way

Set my sight on the rolling lake

She is seen standing by the summer cascade.

Her soft forehead to the wind

Birds be silent, to hear her sing.