The Weather, Man

In truth, I am the weather.
I am the wind kicking up its heels in fury.
I am a turbulent storm crashing waves against your shore.
And like the snow falling softly
Or a raindrop kisses the earth,
I, too, can wet your lips.

The erosion of rock is only water playing persistent.
The earthquake that trembles, simply shifting when asleep.

When the leaves rustle gently
And the wind whispers a name,
It is me calling sweetly,
Thinking the same.

How lovely is the sunset?
How violent is the storm?
Mother Nature has her calling and I, mine.
I will unleash,
Uncork,
Unravel,
And unwind.

Advertisements

Got something to add?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: