Let the Springtime surround you...

Quietly, slowly, softly,
a familiar pitter-patter
makes it's way through
the thick spring air,
landing on apple pie's
in open window's
and curtains blowing
in the gentle sigh's of
Mother Nature's breaths.

Everything is silent
as the soft pitter-patter continues.
Dogs incessent chatter ceases
as they listen to the
sound of angels crying.
T.V's are turned off,
and radios are quieted
as a society run by technology
slows down to simply
appreciate
the rhythm of nature.

Like a child beating a pan,
the rhythm to which
the rain tapped the concrete
like an aspiring Fred Astaire,
chaotically alters
and stutters,
making the once peaceful scene
of spring dismal and dreary.

A whip of lightning suddenly
cracks across the abysmally gray
sky, awakening trees from
their seasonal slumber,
calling flowers to bloom,
and the world back to green.

Slowly, in the distance,
thunder rumbles, a
grandfathers hearty chuckle,
and makes it's
way through the
static air, calming
nerves of those
left wanting.

Again, a bolt of light
streaks through the air
and in it's spectacular
moment averts all eyes
to one spot in the heavens.
Thunder booms in retort,
knocks at Heavens door,
and let's loose
it's supernatural laugh,
casting aside the pure folly
of lightning.

As quickly as it came,
the flashes of folly
and chuckles of
grandfather time
make it's way back across
the sun dried prairie grass,
to where it came, cast
aside by the Sun and
sky of blue.
The rhythm of
nature slowly returns to peace
from the chaos that it became.

The caressing smell,
like the scent of a mother
to her child,
of Earth's sin's washed away
returns to weathered windows
and weathered souls.
Porch-goers return
to their weary rockers
under dry eaves, and simply
sit, and listen,
to the rhythm
of the Earth.