In the Distance, Windmills
In the distance, windmills
with their canvas drawn back
prepare for the summer storm
they see coming across the North Sea.
This is not the stuff of post cards,
this is work, the heavy trundles groaning
as the day turns dark, as the wind
runs dangerous and wild.
Inside, the work has ceased.
The heavy mill stones lifted,
no longer crushing the grain that gives them purpose.
Their purpose now is survival, nothing more,
and you begin to see how every line was designed
not for beauty, but to defeat the wind
and capture it, a matter not of art, but preparation.
About this poem
Storms come. We prepare, hoping we prepare well, but never quite knowing for sure until the storm has passed.
The picture was taken in The Netherlands about an hour outside Amsterdam.
Tom
Quarry House 
Tom, I enjoy your work…every post, but frequently you capture a thought and simply ‘knock it out of the park’. This is one. Not only the poem, but the photo. The words…the image are perfect.
Thank you Susan. This one I wasn’t sure of, but I went with it anyway. I’m glad it resonated!
The thing I love about your work, Tom (well, there are lots of things, but this one probably the most) is that the photos and the poems are two halves of a whole. Beautiful on their own, but strongest and most resonant when taken together, and that is certainly true here. Just beautiful.
I AGREE WITH SUSA…THIS IS A WINNER…WILL USE IN MY BIBLE STUDY TODAY…BTL