Spirit Winds, Approaching Storm Poem by Poison 9901

I stood on the mountain top and watched the approaching storm
I watched in awe as It slowly took form
Lightning fell from the clouds in brilliant blue flashes
Knowing everything it touched would soon be turned to ashes

White clouds soon faded to shades of gray and dark blue
As the sky followed suit and took on and eerie yellowish green hue
The wind began to rise as I felt it tenderly kiss my face
With out stretched arms I welcomed its warm embrace

Curtains of gray soon adorned each of the approaching clouds
As if to be hiding secrets each possessed its own shroud
Lighting cracks in a brilliant flash, a tree explodes and falls to the ground
Tear drops from heaven slowly begin to fall all around

With arms held high I turn my face upwards towards the storm
Admiring all its beauty and the ease at which it could transform
Thunder rolled across the heavens with a deafening roar
Slowly fading away until it could be heard no more

Trees bent and swayed in the wind as if playing tug of war
As the winds stripped their leaves ever higher did they soar
Rain drops rushed together to form silvery pools of every shape
Each joining together as they hurriedly made their escape

With eyes wide open I felt my spirit had been lifted and set free
As those had before me like the Cheyenne, the Apache and the Cherokee
As I descended the mountain I felt your presence everywhere
And suddenly there you were riding across the sky on a great white mare
Chasing the storm a free spirit a guardian from the past