The Eye Within the Storm

Last night, in the middle of the storm,
The snow stopped and the sky cleared,
A brilliant silver moon shone down
Upon the covered lake— an eye of calm,
A pale world outside my door—
No footprints in the snow to mar the path.

I quickly dressed and walked outside
To bare my face against the bitter cold.
Alone I walked upon the frozen lake,
No lover but the moon above—
The stirring wind a quickened breath,
The world a room surrounds.

If I should live to see a hundred years
Or eyes praise another thousand
Passing phases of full moon—
Still this sacred night will rest
Within my heart beside infinity—
The quiet space, the grace, the restless solitude.
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