Wayne Orr

In the heart of night, the sky ignites,
A symphony of shadows, a dance of lights.
Clouds gather close, in a brooding embrace,
Whispers of thunder, the storm’s fierce grace.

A growl from the heavens, low and profound,
The air thick with tension, a tremor of sound.
Lightning, a serpent, strikes with a flare,
Illuminating darkness, electrifying the air.

The wind howls fiercely, a wild serenade,
Trees bend and sway, in Nature’s parade.
Raindrops descend, like a rhythmic drum,
Pulsing and crashing, a wild, watery thrum.

Each flash a painter, bold strokes of white,
Sketching the chaos, igniting the night.
In the tempest’s embrace, both fear and delight,
Nature’s raw power, a breathtaking sight.

As the storm rages on, the world feels alive,
In the throes of the tempest, we tremble, we thrive.
And when it recedes, with a soft, gentle sigh,
The calm after chaos, beneath a clear sky.

So let the thunder roll, let the lightning strike,
In this wild, fierce ballet, we find what we like.
For in every storm, there’s a beauty untold,
A reminder of wonders, fierce, brave, and bold.