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Blue and Purple

STORM

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Grief is a drenching blast that purges love Of all its dross and scum, and leaves it sweet And holy in its excellence complete. Love without grief no test of strength will prove. The bitterness and pain, dread loneliness, The ache of yearning, then the galling thought— Love’s deep passions in shattering gusts are caught, And scattered wide apart when deep distress Comes raging through the soul’s wide-open door; Shaking the citadel of hope—the walls Where all the dearest joys take refuge in— Searching the battered frame to find its core, With that convulsive fury which appalls The strongest heart that deepest Love would win.

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