The Storm

The Storm

A storm is brewing,
I can feel it.
The cool air coming underfoot,
My leaves turning up.
The air thick with moisture,
Clouds rolling across the sky,
Dark and oppressive.
They move stealthily,
Like a ship on the ocean,
Barreling forward,
Ready to strike.
The first sounds are distant,
And deep.
A bang and a crack.
Then a flash of light.
They come closer,
And become stronger.
The wind is wild, unrelenting.
I am swaying and bending,
As the rain comes...
Slowly at first, tapping at my branches and leaves,
Then growing stronger...
Beating on my branches, pounding on my leaves
The wind still blowing hard and fast.
Leaves being ripped from my branches,
And thrown to the ground.
Branches being ripped from my trunk,
as I scream in agony.
I am devastated, loosing hope.
Becoming tired and weak.
Thunder pounds, then lightning strikes,
Missing me by inches.
I’m pushing against the wind
Trying with all of my might, to remain whole.
I stay strong.
The rains begins to slow, the wind relents,
And the sky is quiet.
Tired and weak, I realize that I have won,
I have survived!{/left}