There are moments when the wind has blown and
swept the past away;
moments when the lightning has scorched the corn and
the rain, falling as a thousand silver arrows,
has carelessly harvested the peaches.
The wailing is done and the rains have now passed;
the land is level and wild.
These are moments when all is ruin,
born from no particular wrath;
These are the calm moments,
the trying moments,
where we ask the only meaningful question:
What is worth rebuilding?