I love the way the poet Rilke can feel a storm is coming. He says he can hear the far off fields speak to him. He can tell by the way the wind blows the branches on his windows that a storm is coming.
He goes on to suggest that we need to just allow the storm to dominate us. This may be a storm of such power and weight that we have no choice but to bunker down and let it cover us.
I hope so.
It sounds like and looks like the storm is still on line to hit us.
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