Dark clouds rush and swirl
White horses fume the shore
Swelling waves break and unfurl
A hurricane is here once more

Gulls struggle in the blustery weather
For some shelter from the squall
Fishermen take their boats and tether
To a pillar on the seawall

The waves relentlessly thrash the beach
The wind, the thunderous noise
Fishermen look to the skies and beseech
Listening for God’s voice

Slowly the clouds separate
There is lightness in the sky
The wind begins to abate
Gulls begin to fly

White horses slowly disappear
Sun glints on a calm ocean
I try to listen, but I cannot hear
The bluster, the squally commotion

I guess God has had his say
I guess he has let us see
That on a stormy day
How powerful he can be

©Tony Channing 2002