The Storm

It’s been one long day spent averting crisis’ at work, breaking down barriers, wiping noses, soothing tempers and bullying recalcitrant technology vendors. I’ve been on the phone from 7:30 am until 8:15 pm, and really just need to vegetate a bit. So instead of the usual updates just a picture and a poem tonight.

This one’s for the IDF, hunt well, and for Anat, I will say happy birthday in Tel Aviv.

Oregon storm.jpg

 I came from the hills with a tear in my eye
The winter closed in and the crows filled the sky
The houses were burning the flames gold and red
The people were running with eyes filled with dread
Ah my James
They didn’t have to do this
We chased them for miles I had hate in my eyes
Through forest and moors as the clouds filled the skies
The storm broke upon us with fury and flame
Both hunters and hunted washed out in the rain

I know I can never return
To the time of hope when I was born
Let the strength of peace run through my hand

When we walk away from the stone’s roar
Then I will be afraid no more
And now I’m sure of where I stand
Let the strength of peace run through this land

And nobody smiled as we took back our own
While rain beat upon us the thunder did moan
And nobody smiled when we knew what was lost
We knew well enough only time proves the cost

Big Country, The Storm