Shelter In A Storm

Just like the echo of the human
psyche, nature takes puckish pleasure
in manipulating light moods to dark
for the atmosphere above us,
sweetly encouraging a wide blue
morning sky with that beaming
sundisk warming dawn's cool
introduction, then prodding sullenly
grim clouds to shove the timid
pacific blue aside, the sky to reduce
to dark gloom.  We, making our
feckless way in the closeness of the
afternoon forest, note the wind
scudding clouds bruised with the
conflict of nature's impish intent.  In
the dimmed light jewelweed, newly
blooming, gleams defiant, miniatures
of the hidden sun.  The morosely
bellowing cracks of thunder give ample
notice and we pick up pace from a
crawl to a stroll.  Timing and luck
truly are the determinants; the pounding
daggers of rain slathering the area
just as we enter our sheltering hearth.