The Calm Before The Storm Hurricane Milton

The wind speaks softly through the trees, Whispering warnings none can hear. Beneath the sky, a world at ease, Yet shadows swell with silent fear. The air is thick with waiting now, The scent of rain, of earth’s dismay. The branches tremble at the bough, Unsure if they should bend or stay. Sideways rain will lash the night, But in this pause, we find a place— Between the calm, before the fight, Where love becomes our last embrace. Your touch is soft as winds arise, Your lips speak out, a calming plea. Though darkness looms and thunders rise, In this still moment, we are free. The trees and bushes bend and shake, An anxious heart within the breeze, But here, with you, no fear can take— We face the storm on bended knees.