The baritone roar of the thunder
Shakes awake the drowsy windows,
So they can witness the whip of lightning
Cut across the dark flesh of the sky.
The shattering of rain on surfaces
Like the chatter of the eager audience,
Plays in the background of the scene.
The light dims a little, catching attention,
As the wind cuffs itself to branches
Making them sway back and forth helplessly
Stirring up chaos in the trees,
And I stand there, in the middle of it all,
Watching the world being directed by the storm.
