SUMMER STORM

 

A white cloud

Appears on the once

Clear blue afternoon sky

Like a careless splodge of white

On the blue canvas of an artist

It bubbles up

Then races across the blue

Another appears bigger this time

Then another and another

And as they move across the sky

They cast their shadows across the land

Patches of light and dark

Appear to move over the landscape

Like a giant kaleidoscope

One of the sunny patches

Illuminates the weeping cherry

Where the gold finches sing

Then there is more cloud than sky

The small white clouds

Have now bubbled up and darkened

And from the lake the Geese speak

To no one in particular

Saying that a storm is coming

In the distance the mountains

Stand out starkly

Against the ever darkening sky

The first sounds of thunder

Roll around the valley

Sounding like a distant train

Getting nearer and louder

Silent lightning streaks

Across the blackening clouds

Then a thunder clap

Not to be mistaken for a distant train

Large raindrops hit the ground

Dappling the dry earth

Strumming on the roof tops

And the tops of parked cars

In a reassuring rhythm

And as the last dry spot disappeared

The torrent began

Falling vertically like monsoon rains

Lightning streaks dazzled the eyes

And almost instant thunder shook the house

The waters of the lake

Erupted like a pot coming to the boil

And day was turned to night

Slowly the rain eased

And the storm rolled on

Blue coloured the skies again

The Geese spoke again from the lake

Gold finches sang once more

And the air was filled with the scent of wet pines