I stand in awe at the strong winds blowing Hurricanes rising and tornadoes growing Housing blown away and long hair flowing Killing the crops of this year's sewing. Stay strong, dear brothers; Strong in disaster Stout in the winds that blow ever faster Stay strong for your children, strong for your wives, To get to the morning you must first traverse the night.
A poem written for the victims of the series of tornadoes wrecking the south-central North America area, especially Oklahoma.