Poem 2 – Rain

Another one, because the art is fun.  I think I was being literal with this one.  I like rain, and always have.


The wind flies over the land
A churning, living storm.
Relentless in it’s power
Seamless in its form.
Twisting, wrapping, uncontrolled
Lifting souls to new heights
Moving living lying leaves
In freedom of true flight.
I walk in a twirling storm
The clouds grow endless black.
A storm has come stongly
Blowing against my back.
Cold hard raindrops
Smack against the ground
Colder and colder it grows
The beast has broken its bound.
Hide from the fury
Take to strong cover.
Find yourself a deep hole
This storm is a mother.

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