Out on a limb reed ducks

The sky darkened. Brilliant daylight changed in a flash to pitch-black night.

A torrential downpour pelted every square inch of ground around the tree trunk upon which a canopy of grand lion size paw leaves temporarily staved off my complete saturation.

Mean looking waves of water pelted me like brick bats hurled, slapped, thwacked akin to giant sheets loosed from some humungous bed did lamb.

An accompanying strong wind bent top most branches decimating cradled boughs.
Above celestial din hells bells earsplitting clanging, howling and oppressive xing, the raging storm battered unrelentingly, witheringly re wuthering heights – giving willow credence to weep.
Amidst barking cacophony, the zapping whirling vortex tore to shreds protective wooden armor encasing this once glorious green gingham housed biota forcing old sassy tree to perform strip tease, as invisible Banshee daemons fiendishly hurled jagged lances.
Every last ounce of strength summoned from this bantamweight writer, which wicked witch wantonly whipped posterior. Though flagellated as if punished, no penance would be paid per viewing mine existence loose.
Nonetheless, the malicious nefarious and odious cyclonic forces incessantly lashed out in an all out attempt to spell mine demise.
No force of nature would pry instinctually survivalist-rooted tenacity inherent within these lovely bones.
Vicious forces tried to wrench tentative grip, which water laden hands loosened and slipped a smidgen viz Life-lock upon sturdy branch would not be broke!
Every leaf except one (meaning me: Leif Ericsson) sheared from sharp jagged wall heaved from heavens.

As furies grew fiercer, they tossed, spun and pitched me to and fro (wrought by fiendish forces of nature). Though sapped with utter resignation, an untapped reservoir of dog gone faith within this lone star spinning treetop weathervane whipped up motivational speaker within thine flesh.
I found thyself clinging ever stronger with tree men das effort for dear life and limb.

The howling hideous hounds tried in vein to yank me sternly ironclad hold, but I remained sturdy and held steadfast to stem being sacrificed, this despite stalk twisting in the heinous gale.

This serrated blade runner got rammed to and fro, hither and yon, but the might of mother earth could not dislodge me from a strong bond to thy dun woody home where I logged a lifetime of weather that spanned the gamut from A to Z.

Perhaps life as a budding bundle of healthy green genetics allowed, provided and enabled me to survive foreign tempest loosed from analogous teapot.
EPIPLGUE:
Neither atmospheric phenomenon, unmoored this sear rated resilient Homo sapiens IP nodule.
Even many moons hence, the onset of cooler temperatures whence old man winter will schlep around the house at pooh’s corner.
All thru out, fate ordained this left wing Leif motif as potential tasty morsel when photosynthesis burst on the skein of me being, and even at thyme of this writing, an idea planted to be leave one can endure any adversity, no matter man-made or sprung from the xylem and phloem of thyself!

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