The Why of the Storm
The Earth spins fast to morning
The dawn prods Sol to wake
And radiate his bright personality
Engaging a new day to break.
As the cold of the night is diminished
The chill of morning gives starch to the breeze.
The air is crisp with apprehension;
There is disquiet in the bent and the trees.
The effervescence of early morning
Cedes vitality to the glaze of day
And the hands of an obscure time-piece
Tick as glaze fades to threatening gray.
The anxiety of flora and fauna
Gives rise to the havoc that lurks;
There’s a change in the thrill of the morning
And they know how Mom Nature works.
Sneering clouds hover low on the horizon;
A Storm has its sights on the land.
That’s where it will unleash its potential
Exactly where Nature has planned.
The Storm with conscience unchallenged
And might to level all in its path
Commits sin against man and nature
Yet refuses to atone for its wrath.
After the Storm has languished
And the clouds pass by and dissolve
The production of Nature’s wonder
Is a force that man may never solve.
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