A February storm brewed out,In that delicious Pacific cocktail,
Its oceans cold with waters that devoured this shore,
No one holds those intense winds,
As we hear their passive wails,
They'll lick violently against those cedars and prevail,
Drifts refuse to float no more and beat against the rocks,
Wooden splintered shapes polished by land,
Search the passage within this safe place and shine,
All is known for Haida Gwaii and their land of hope is divine,
Waves crest and the Pacific surges forward,
This storm at Skidegate never overthrows,
But will conquer as its own tempest and wane,
Those Haida poles know of this land and have seen the pain.
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