I Ran to the forest for shelter, <br />Breathless, half sobbing; <br />I put my arms round a tree, <br />Pillowed my head against the rough bark. <br />"Protect me," I said. "I am a lost child." <br />But the tree showered silver drops on my face and hair. <br />A wind sprang up from the ends of the earth; <br />It lashed the forest together. <br />A huge green wave thundered and burst over my head. <br />I prayed, implored, "Please take care of me!" <br />But the wind pulled at my cloak and the rain beat upon <br /> me. <br />Little rivers tore up the ground and swamped the bushes. <br />A frenzy possessed the earth: I felt that the earth was <br /> drowning <br />In a bubbling cavern of space. I alone-- <br />Smaller than the smallest fly--was alive and terrified. <br /> Then for what reason I know not, I became trium- <br /> phant <br />"Well, kill me!" I cried and ran out into the open. <br />But the storm ceased: the sun spread his wings <br />And floated serene in the silver pool of the sky. <br />I put my hands over my face: I was blushing. <br />And the trees swung together and delicately laughed.<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-storm-7/
