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Poem

I have heard a myth, a rumor,
A legend long ago told. 
About a mighty being eastward 
With arcing wings of gold.  
Its breath alone brewed fierce storms
A shaken feather made thunder roar. 
And God have mercy on the soul
Caught in her rage's downpour. 
I have heard this myth, this rumor,
This story handed down.  
Of a beast powerful and brilliant
That wears lightning as it's crown. 

When I met the rain
And listened to every droplet fall,
I swear that through the tapping
I heard her mesmerizing call. 
As temptation was too much,
I ventured out into the gale. 
And found myself under her gaze
With my face flushing pale. 
Though chaos engulfed us both,
Peace was still in her eye. 
Despite the pandemonium 
She commanded the sky. 
When I met the rain,
And felt the splatter on my skin
I finally met the legend 
I had always believed in. 

Just to stand this close
To be here struck by awe
In the presence of perfection
This being without flaw. 
To feel the radiant energy
To breathe the same air 
Of Her Majesty unrivaled 
With whom none compare. 
Just to stand this close
To be found where you are
Is a greater blessing
Than any given me thus far. 

You, mighty Thunderbird,
Are creation's pride and joy. 
Complete supreme beauty
That nothing could destroy. 
There exists no equal
On earth, in heaven, or sea
For no one else can boast
Such intricate complexity. 
You wear a thousand masks
And rarely show your face. 
But I have seen your heart,
It's cracked elegance; it's fractured grace. 
You, precious Thunderbird,
Are all I've wished to find. 
And now that I have seen you,
I can't get you off my mind.

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