Thunder and Lightning ride the sky,
Windblown leaves pass right on by.
Streaks of gray, trails of blue,
These gusts of wind blow, quickly, through.
The rain falls on, with no delay,
The fresh scent lingers from day to day.
As the clouds go flying past,
Not much has changed, it's here to last.
And with the clouds gone, the sun could shine,
From the meadows and brooks, to the tree with the vine.
The sky now clear, and the path now set,
The sense of a storm, we won't soon forget.
