Threatening skies,
There so cool and peaceful
In the breeze before the rain
The grey virtuous silence
Gracious non-color usher's in the sound
Whirligigs creak and swirl as to announce
As trees sway that refresh the wind
It's almost an addiction
The slaughtering of the lamb
Always living in the moment
No patients in the clouds
But so smooth the flow of gloom
You have to take notice
Of the blessings inbetween
The sun and the storm
If I could bottle it like a djinn
What would bring the tempest
Alabaster's powder corked in marble lids
Lurking eerily over the under
Around corners where walls end
And through brambles and bushes
Curiosity deftly drifts in
And if the seasons called
I'd have to decline for lack of charm
Adrenaline rush of calm before the harm
Clarity in shades of ash in palm
I must now dash to my shelter
Before poetry gets the best of me
And all that's left is rest in peace