The air is chilled and still
as I sit with my dark brew
reading Donne & Herbert.
A sudden gust of wind crashes
through the courtyard, overturning
drinks, stealing napkins, hurling
them toward the street.
The chaos lasts only a moment
and, having grabbed our attention,
the tempest rushes east, leaving behind
just a gentle breeze
now and then.
We in the courtyard are left to wonder
and puzzle over what has just occurred.
Perhaps some wild spirit has passed,
laughing as it shocked us.
Or perhaps the power
often unseen and unfelt, but
surrounding us every second,
has momentarily been revealed.
Alan Howe is a writer, avid bird watcher, and retired librarian and pastor living in Oakland, California.