Storms rolling forth, circling their prey. Rolling and rumbling, emitting sounds of anger. Waiting for the right moment to unleash its ferocity upon the onlookers below.
Great patience is needed for such a task. . . Minutes pass by. . . still keeping those waiting, expectant. Finally, word comes and the storm, capturing unawares, unleashes the beast within. leaving nothing behind but a tumultuous wake of chaos to any who may have survived.
The storm dissipates, as if nothing was once there, nothing that could have ever caused this much damage. The survivors didn't know what hit them. All that was once chaotic is now calm and beautiful.
Dumbfounded, how could something this bad have ever occurred? They never would have thought something this devastating could have happened to them.
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2 comments:
that was a sweet poem. it made me worry a bit though. are you alright?
i love the very top picture - the one of the red rock that overpasses. (I don't quite know how to describe it...)
That picture is from Arches National Park. I love that picture too. It is one of my favorites from the long trip down to the Grand Canyon. That Red Rock is called sand stone. Ask Jeff on how it forms...he should know. 8)
I am completely fine. That was from like 2 or so years ago and just found it in one of my many notebooks I have lying around. I'm just fine and dandy!! Thanks though, I miss you dear.
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