Stormsong
It
starts, a soft, distant roll of kettledrums,
The musical whistle of wind through trees
Joined by a percussion of raindrops,
Each bringing its own note.
It builds into a crashing symphony of thunder,
The explosive crescendo of lighting,
The driving beat of wind swept rain.
All
are embraced in its grasp,
Not one plant or being is left untouched.
The stinging moisture scours clean the impurities of life,
Leaving all clean and refreshed, as though were new.
Its energy expended, the Stormsong moves on,
Spent and content
Dragonstar
k’Shaya
Written for Naming Day 2001