"I am too weary of this long bright calm...give me then
something outside me stirring; let the storm
break up the sluggish beauty, let it fall
beaten below the feet of passionate winds,
and then to-morrow waken jubilant
in a new birth.

There will be storm at last, storm, glorious storm."

- Augusta Webster, "Circe"

1-3: a darkening sky
4-6: downpour
7-9: realization

Image credits:
bit.ly/2JF3v9P
traumarx.tumblr.com

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