Mountain Storm

The great bald eagles coast high
and wide under a blue sky
flirting with puffed white clouds
prancing like a flock of docile sheep 
in a meadow, the wind persuasively
moving nature's creations with its
usual disorderly and emphatic
confidence. The granite cliff
reaches in its soaring majesty
to touch the heavens, falling short
but not by much. In the granite
fastness, picas scurry into rocky
interstices and marmots pause to
regard patterns of atmospheric
messages they well know. The
wheeling birds and the stoic
creatures below aware of the
wind's master plan ushering into
the mountain landscape towering
thunderheads, a mirror-inversion
mocking those rough grey cliffs
below, preparing to unleash
orchestral theatrical companions
to a mountain storm; lightning, thunder. 
Tension awaits the bold entry.