And he said, Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice. And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle, and went out, and stood in the entering in of the cave. And, behold, there came a voice unto him, and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?

The sonnet, inspired by 1 Kings 19:11-13 (KJV), describes Elijah’s encounter with God on Mount Horeb. It vividly portrays a fierce wind tearing mountains apart, a mighty earthquake shaking the earth, and a blazing fire consuming all—yet God’s voice is absent from these dramatic forces. Instead, after the chaos, a “still small voice” emerges in a tranquil hush, calling to Elijah as he stands at the cave’s steep entrance. The poem concludes that God’s will is revealed not in storms, but in the softest, most subtle sound, affirming His sovereign presence.

The wind arose, a tempest fierce and wild,
It tore the mountains, shattered stone to dust,
Yet in its roar, no holy word compiled,
For God withheld His voice from tempest’s thrust.

An earthquake shook the earth with trembling might,
A fire blazed, consuming all in flame,
But neither bore the whisper of His light,
No sacred truth within their chaos came.

Then silence fell, a hush upon the air,
A still small voice, so faint, yet piercing deep,
It called to Elijah, standing there,
A gentle breath where mortal souls might creep.

In quietude, not storm, His will is known,
The softest sound reveals His sovereign throne.