Tempest-tossed and whirlwind-worn
Across the sea my father lies
Thunder-struck and lightning-born
Sunlight sleeping in his eyes
I am lost: my father waits
Autumn-drunk across the sea.
Rain, so ravished, fast abates;
Tempest-tossed, he waits for me.
His arms will hold me soon, I know
(Sons still waiting, ships still lost)
When I have nowhere else to go
So rain-ravished, tempest-tossed.
Share this article: