Oh, to hear the voice of an untamed wind
Whispering flames onto apostle's heads:
To feel the breath of chaos on my skin,
Like one who is alive but once was dead.
For we have tried to comfort Job with morals
While the whirlwind in our soul confounds us
With uncreated freedom. God quarrels
With his own creatures and answers the dust.
God answers us with creativity,
Describing with pride his many monsters;
Violent, unfettered actuality:
Inexplicable natural disasters.
In every heart the hurricane swirls:
The power which with a word made the world.
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