A faint rumble in the distance
Brings quiet tidings of what is to come.
A mild breeze brushes the leaves,
Warning of the impending fury.
The rumble grows louder,
The breeze stronger,
And the storm is upon me.
The sky roars her fury in thunder,
The lightning of anger flashes in her eyes.
Her furious breaths shake the trees.
Her anger mounts, seething,
Searching to impart destruction.
And at the highest point of her anger,
The storm breaks,
And her fury is replaced by a flood of sadness,
A wave of tears raining down upon the earth.
As I listen, the rain creates music.
The sky's tears are my lullaby,
Singing me to sleep.