after R. S. Thomas


A great gust of wind blew in
from the sea and the small
island shook. He looked
down, passing his hand
over the ocean and the land,
and watched as the trees
bent back upright and the wind
died down. He smiled as
the few creatures peered
out from their hiding places
and began to move about,
watching over their shoulders.

When they started to sing
and dance, he sent a sharp
crack of thunder and a flash
of lightening that burst
and burned over the top
of the highest hill, where the
ceremonies were always held.
The creatures ran and hid
again and his echoing laughter
rolled over the roiled waters
and disappeared in distance.

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This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 30 Number 5, on page 52
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