Now Playing: Poem about a certain time of year when the wind whips down off the Taku mountain range
TAKU WIND
They say beyond the mountain peak
There lay a barren land
A forging block of ice and snow
Set down by Winter's hand
A place where niether man nor beast
Would dare to make his home
Where Winter shapes the icy winds
And sets them free to roam....
High above the frozen deep
They race across the land
The centuries of stone and snow
Can't still their sculpting hands...
They carry brittle tools of frost
To valleys far below
Where living souls seek shelter
When 'The Taku' starts to blow.
But somewhere on a mountaintop
There stands a lady fair..
She sings beneath the midnight sun
While hell shrieks through her hair
She wears a veil of sorrow
Whipping wildly on the wind...
And bids goodbye the lover
She will never see again.
So when the mouth of winter
Whispers coldly in your ear...
Listen for the 'Taku Wind', and maybe you will hear..
A ghostly song of sorrow
Dancing lightly on the gale...
Slowing down the work at hand
To bear this windswept tale.
@1991
J. Arnold