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Psalm 29 Remembered in a Line Storm, 1967

In Kansas on a summer night

The wind blows strong on moon bright white.

Far off horizon flashes faint,Then oftener with brilliant light.

She sits on that old glider. Still.

No one beside her, quite alone,

The glider squeaks in questioning

And yet she does not hear it moan

Above the magnitude of night.

Some long thin clouds now slice the moon,

Grow larger and then cover it,

But magnify its glow until

The silver gray enlarging massEnvelopes the sky. Then quite soon

The glow is gone and all is black.

The lid is on the pit. She sits

With natures murmers anxiouslyAnticipating, but must wait.

Yea over the waves of the darkening tempest

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Fast the lid cracks

Bringing day to the night.

Everythings seen;

All is revealedJust for a flash.

With a merciful clash

All is concealed

In the black of the night.

The rain starts to fall,

Not slowly, but fast.

The ground is a flood,

No dampness or mud.

The wind takes the slap

And rises to arm.It carries the rain

Away on its back.

Becoming a team

They drive on together.

Wash this black world,

Pound and punish it clean.

God ruled at the flood yea, forever His throne.

The thunderous applause

Roll in and then on.

Ovation now bursts

In praise of the skys

Spectacular play.

A beautiful move,

Performance sublime,

Magnificent time,

Each brought claps for oncore.

In thunder the God of all glory draws nigh

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She too watched the drama,

Absorbed and involved.

The glider complained

At being disturbedBut she did not hear,

As rising took hold

The porch pillar post.

Rain flew in her face.

Her hair clung in strings

And lashed at her neck.

It stung. The wind whipped

Her clothes, pushed her back,

But she stood still straight,

Alone with the storm.

So privileged to glimpseThis mighty charade,

She felt free, alive,

Magnificence beyond reply.

The voice of Jehovah in majesty speaks.

The storm now was spent.

Its peak had been passed.

Applause died away.

The wind calmed to breeze.

Rain fell straight and staid.

Alone, with no one

Beside her, she heard

The glider squeak its

Unbalanced refrain,

Amid the symmetry

Of ever falling rain.

Jehovah all strength to His people imparteth;

Jehovah with peace ever blesseth His own.

K.E. Stegall 1967