Sirens of the Silver Storm

Way distantly,
I perceive,
A shower.
Very faintly,
I receive,
Its whisper.

Clouds are coming,
Sailing on high,
In wedded direction.
Each one singing,
As they fly,
Erasing the sun.

A storm hails near,
It's song now clear,
Inching in increasing intensity.
Yet stronger the beat,
Of trillions of feet,
Marching in harmonious certainty.

Behold the Sirens' fearsome rage!
Broken free from icy cage,
To unleash nature's passion perilous.
The power which hidden lies,
Behind shivaree wild thundering cries;
Kindles into arcing splendidly luminous.

Not one liquid stone,
Is left floating alone,
Lost in abysmal reverie.
The chorus of raindrops,
Do enchant as one,
Conveying a refreshing melody.

The tempest came;
Now growing tame,
Glides gently by.
'Twill go asleep,
In the deep,
Of the sky.

Going away,
It leaves,
A present.
A memory,
That endures,
In scent.

Sirens of the Silver Storm Copyright Xean.