From The Centre

I watch
a wild wind tear
my garden house apart
that has stood against
many years of blown
snows and summer suns

flies jangling wind chimes
sideways in whirling snow
scatters torn shards
of this broken day
a roaring train
rushing late
far from the city
or steel rail
gusting on broken wheels

now even electric lights
fail
but a wood fire
blazes in the stove
warms the house
heats water for soup
and tea

soup and tea
a warm fire
is this enough when
my world is torn roots
broken branches all around
my life flies shattered
in shards scattered
by a wild wind?

let me find this storm's
quiet centre
God my Saviour
once again.