The storm is arriving, accompanied by cool winds and the indescribable scent of rain.
A dark shadow falls over us, turning the sky eerie hues.
The clouds roll in, like waves about to crash over us.
Everyone is frightened, but I wait in anticipation.
Some people dread the impending storm because of the noise and wetness and darkness, but I look forward to it.
I love the cool breezes that come as a warning,
letting everyone know what is to take place.
I am captivated by the violent thunder that shakes the earth,
and the lightening that brings a quick burst of light to the darkness.
I am in awe at the floods of water that drench the earth,
cleansing it from all of its troubles
and rinsing it of its impurities.
I admire the way it demands respect and attention from all of nature.
It refuses to be ignored, and it makes itself known.
The remarkable thing about the storm is that you can take it how you want;
thankfully as a beautiful blessing,
or you can take it for granted, as an annoying necessity that gets in your way.
If storms are feared, it should be for their vast power and unexpectedness.
But amidst the storm, I find peace.