The Formation Poem by Mona Lisa Aspiras

The clouds form billowy wisps at first.
A trace of a wind plays around with them.
Dust revolves, twirls around.
Forms a whirlpool.
Tornado shapes.
Dark clouds gather.
They are outlined in black
and varying shades of gray.
They feel heavy, like steel.
Rain trickles at first.
Slowly it becomes heavier.
It downpours.
Earth, thirsty, thanks it.
Plants grow.
Children scream, howl, dance in the rain
Their mothers scolding them.