The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.
The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow,
And the storm is fast descending
And yet I cannot go.
Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me;
I will not, cannot go.E.Bronte
The poem is about bearing the things that are sent to try us in this world, even facing our own mortality…my little bird, safely on his branch, appears to be nonplussed at the tumult below him…he has seen it often and knows there is nothing to fear…we should follow his example..
A Chinese Brush Painting in Watercolour on Arches Not Paper…view large to see details…