Rhythm of the Storm
From where I sat in the safety of my home, I could have sworn the Earth was speaking.
The wind whistled a tune through the cracks of the hollow walls resembling the sound of an old pan flute.
Dark cranky clouds rolled over the blue revealing a grey atmosphere as drops of rain fell from above painting the asphalt in splatters.
Just then the sky erupted into a thunderous song roaring from East to West. Without hesitation a bolt flashed beyond the lush fields.
Like a kickdrum beat the echo bellowed deep into the soil.
Parched grass now green swallowed every drop provided until it's thirst was quenched.
Tree branches danced around in a aggressive manner.
I watched as my curtains swayed back and forth due to the warm August air.
The world sat still as the heavens poured down a symphony of rage. I peer outside my glass shield at this catastrophic masterpiece.
Once the Storm passes damage is sure to be done and pedestrians will aimlessly look about for mounds of debris to marvel at, powerlines will be toppled over and smalls town a wreck.
Slowly a glimpse of light appeared between soft sheets of clouds, fresh rays spread brightly over my cheeks.
All commotion stopped and just like that life returned to normal like not a thing happened. The sun was in full form now as if it were taking a bow.
It seems the rhythm of the Storm had come to an end.