Mother Nature

Angry clouds,
With brilliant skies,
Painted colors of blue, red, and orange,
And bouts of thunder,
Rolling over the purple mountains.

The absence of sound,
No rustling of leaves,
Or flap of wings,
The quiet before the storm.

Rain falls,
Pelting all that walk beneath,
Soaking all that enter it’s domain.

Lightning strikes,
A quick flash across the sky,
A sudden burst of light.

Thunder booms,
Echoing across the Red Rockies,
A roaring cry.

The storm passes,
The glittering diamonds of rain,
Shimmering in the newly emerging sun.

And the smell of clean air,
Restarts and rejuvenates,
All those who danced,
Under the passing storm.