I stand alone in silence, the approaching storm is violent.
But for now natures at peace, all is still and Silent.
The winds now pick up steadily as oak leaves rustle and pine trees sway.
Blowing past my face gently, on the wind the songbirds play.
Nature falls in silence, except for the rustling cane.
The earth eagerly awaits the coming of the rain.
And on the breeze is carried the telltale of the coming storm.
The scent of rain reaches me and on the horizon clouds form.
Gentle thunder rolls now, like a train on the fly.
Lightning even now strikes lighting up the southern sky.
The clouds come on quickly with a steady unending approach.
Rolling on violently like an old western stagecoach.
The rains begin to fall, beginnings of a spring shower.
The final warning given before unleashing its power.
Heavily now the rains fall sending rivulets down my face.
The storm now surrounds me in a very wet embrace.
And still yet here I stand, water seeming to touch my soul.
Washing away my cares, it seems to make me whole.
The power of this storm, to experience is to imbue.
It just isn’t the same if you only sit back and view.
The storms still rolling on, away from the world around me.
And in its final parting rains, the world around I see.
Nature now has changed and all is fresh and clean.
The spring storm also bettered even what’s unseen.
Bronze trophy winner
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