Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Night (and an edit)

The night is darkening round me

By Emily Brontë 
The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go. 

Edited: Late last night around 2 am there was a storm that came through with voracious winds. As I watched it, I wanted to step out into it and face those winds and be caught up. This morning the leftover gusts still lingered and swept through the trees long branches like wind blowing through long hair. Again I was thrilled with the storm and could not bear myself away from watching it. 
Nothing can move me, I cannot go.