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My soul is awakened
MY soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring,
And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;
For, above, and around me, the wild wind is roaring,
Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.
The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,
The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;
The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,
The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky.
I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing
The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray,
I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing
And hear the wild roar of their thunder today!
Anne Brontë
Poetry is not a civilizer, rather the reverse, for great poetry appeals to
the most primitive instincts. ~Robinson Jeffers
The works of Gregor Mendel, father of the science of genetics, went undiscovered for sixteen years after his death.
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