Weather Day

It is a moody, broody weather day.
Not the briefest of reprieves from a
belligerently adamant rain system that
sits with utter malice in league with
volatile temperature swings and winds
unleashing the fury of extravagant
power, dominating and domineering
the haplessly cowering landscape.

Birds lift in hesitant flight, challenging
the antagonistic wind velocity, their
wings thumping against adversity, tiring,
settling for the duration. The smaller, more
fragile of the species remain where they can
nestle to the close comfort of sheltering trees,
themselves mustering their existential
resources, shuddering and swaying.

Waterways are swollen with the oncoming
deluge, absorbing the excess and rushing
madly downstream in a dark roiling fury
of distemper. Logs and limbs, nests and
forest castoffs bob and swirl, thrusting
their rain-gushing exit from one river to the
next, increasingly greater, louder, odoriferous
and blacker as aquatic plant life is uprooted
and the entire rankness intently, fiercely
migrates, torn asunder from their source.

This is nature's occasional lapse from her
beneficent source of nurturing accommodation
to tyrannical overseer of all she surveys,
finding fault with the order of her systemic
methodology, throwing protocol into disarray
in a fit of rejection, leaving her creatures at
the mercy of her rampaging elements until
the tantrum subsides, order finally restored.