This photo shows the approach of a storm in the Cook
Strait. The sun is setting, the sea calm, the ferry untroubled on its way. The
rainbow, however, marks a shower as the storm, right, approaches; and the fine
settled weather, left, exits, soon to be lost in the dusk.
This can serve to background the poem, Storm, in my
Heartscapes collection.
‘Sea birds, sentinels,
fleeing the black storm brewing in the Strait
cry out their warnings
what’s up ahead:
the rising wind the stinging sand
the bone-chilling rain the
lightning-strikes: the beach a killing zone?
The soul says:
Shall we see light? Torrents wash us clean?
Wind blow through our mind?
Shall we know ourselves the storm over and
gone?
The beach still, the sea calm rainbow
preaching peace? Shalôm?’
Are we at a juncture of history like this? The black
storm, right, approaching? But the rainbow holds out promise of a future. The
ferry, hopefully, will make it to a safe haven. Or will it turn out to be ‘a
ship of fools’ who didn’t see the danger, foundered?
Raymond Pelly Wellington, NZ, 2 July 21
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