Indian Sky

Indian Sky Across the desert the clouds gather. They are angry, and full of rain. It is late in the day, and there is no time to play, we must hurry, before the storm. The smell is full of life. It has dirt, dust, and bones... carried over the years, back and forth across the land. The cracks in the dry beds are testament to the rarity... and the ghostly frequency of the tempest. The people hear the warnings. They watch, and their elders talk. They do not listen. Why should they listen? It all seems so far away from here? How could it ever be more, than a squall... ? The lights flash in the clouds off and on. Then they gain speed and accuracy, as if all things were directed. How could anything be so orchestrated, to destroy so much so fast, and take down the tall seats from their high chairs, like giants to children, or a parent to a child. The small, and tiny people run and hide. Those that believe, stay and stand. They wait, they all wait. Judgment so near, to fear for some. While... at the same time, sweet acceptance for others. A moment in time when the sun fills the heavens the King returns. Then the moon will cry rivers of water to quench the fires of forever, but it will never be enough. Live as if it was today, right now... as tomorrow it will be too late, to find a way to change what is, coming.