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.