circles

Below the sultry storm that seemed to lower,
An alien force, again I heard the call
Of my mysterious mate: the prisoned power
Of old dreams flared and flickered in its fall.

And with a cry of horror and of dolor
As of an eagle in an iron vise
My spirit shook its cage in quivering choler,
And tore the net, and issued to the skies.

And up behind the clouds, unswerving, bearing,
Before the miraclesa flaming sea
Within the shining sanctum briefly flaring,
It vanished into white infinity.

-Below the Sultry Storm by Vladimir Solovyov