The air is charged. It’s hard to breathe.
A living fire drops from the sky at will.
The wind whips by. Hair whirls to the dance.
Power rages on all sides,and only I am still.
From a distant hilltop, the beauty unfolds.
The sun lights curtains of rain to rosy glow.
A streak of light: thin, fine, alive.
Power echoes faintly as gentle breezes blow.