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.

Source: http://jar-of-elixir.tumblr.com/post/20907743122

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.

Joy

I will never tire of the wind,
be it a cold winter blast
that takes me off guard
with it's bitterness,
or an exhilarating spring or
fall tempest that sweeps me away.
I get caught up in it every time,
...it's as if the wind is calling
my name to come out and play.
The trees become my cohorts,
...those gentle giants that sway
back and forth with delight,
as they gracefully bend to and
fro - they get caught up every time,
too, and are surely clapping their
hands in mirth.
In these moments, I am a
beautiful bird who was made for nothing more than ascending
to the heights where the currents await me. Joy.

For the beauty of the earth