AGAINST THE STORM - A POEM BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
The World Outside
AGAINST THE STORM
The blizzard raged, a howling, icy breath,
The world outside, a shroud of wintry death.
My little nest, a haven, warm and small,
Against the storm, I bravely stood, through all.
But then, a wonder, through the swirling snow,
White-winged doves descended, soft and low.
They sought my shelter, weary, cold, and frail,
Their gentle cooing, a mournful, wintry wail.
I opened wide my heart, and welcomed them in,
Sharing the warmth, where winter's grip had been.
We huddled close, a fragile, feathered throng,
Finding solace, where we both belonged.
In that small space, a fragile peace we found,
A shared warmth, on frozen, barren ground.
The storm outside, could not our spirits tame,
For in each other, we found a kindred flame.
And as the dawn, with hesitant light, broke through,
The doves took flight, their wings of silver, new.
But in my heart, their memory would remain,
A silent echo, of that wintry, shared refrain.
WILLIAMSJI MAVELIĀ
Ā
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