First the wind is blowing.
Then the wind blows this way
And then the wind blows that way.
Are we in the eye of the storm….
The hurricane is the victor.
The sheep are bleating
But they cannot be heard.
They do not hoard their concerns
For a better time
When their bleating can be heard.
Everything is pleasant.
We are not poor peasants;
We know our prayers are heard.
Then we are alarmed
As the wind blows first this way
Then that way.
(Eyrie of the Storm)
