Storms

There is a storm in the distance
Thunder, thunder, rolling, kettle drum thunder
Soothing yet frightful in its magnitude and amplitude it rolls
Spawned from mother-lightning, it too is an awesome display of power

From a distance a storm is a display of beauty and awe
The distant flash, little more than a fire fly flash,
Mother lighting revealing it's creator, the huge towering cumulus
The wait, no wind, no rain, just midnight silence, silence.

The thunder rolls
With no rhythm or melody, it is its own symphony
A distant roll intensifies, builds to a booming climax
A crescendo filled the air with a cacophony of drums

The sound falls quickly to nothingness is's power miles away, for others' awe
The wait between displays is less now, the storm less of a distant display
The horizon brightening with each flash,

Upon us!
Trees sway, rain carried by the mighty, unseen wind pounds the window
No serenity now...Millions of volts cracking overhead, North South. Van de Graff's dream.
Thunder with the intensity of dynamite, not some mere musical instrument

The Mighty display of Power is absorbing
Every sense is aroused
The sight, the sound. sudden chill of the rain the smell and taste of the ozone
Swirling, pelting, surrounding, consuming, it is in command

The Climax,
it is just as quickly gone
no rain
distant, rolling thunder in the afterglow.