The Storm's Fury

The sky is sullen, lowering with
dark clouds captured by a succession
of jagged, bare peaks reluctant to
release them as though capriciously
finding comfort and purpose in their
brooding presence, finally agreeing to
their drifting departure only when they
have released their burden of rain
as thunder claps across the sky,
trapping all below in a monsoon of
wind, pelting bolts of lightning,
bellicose threats as clouds collapse.

The alpine flora sponge the pounding
rain, the silenced thrushes await
cessation, huddling below the tree line,
while massive boulders, balanced on
the edge of the stony slopes, long
separated from the spiny cliffs and
mountain colls turn darkly sinister,
hued thus by the rain, their tough
clinging lichens flourishing on their
drenched perches. Not a single
creature stirs in the storm's fury.