The Storm

the storm the sounds of thunder echoing in the sky, bolts of lightning passing my eyes, the fears of the storm gripping my soul making me lose all control. where do you hide when you're in open space another storm you have to face. a silent prayer comes into your mind, and you lose the track of time. when the prayer you have finished-the thunderous storm has diminished. the skies start to clear, and the birds are singing in the air. the squirrels running on the ground making their familiar sound. the sound of a helicopter buzzing in your ear, giving its reports from far and near. the day is back to a normal pace, as a smile crosses your face the storm is over and you are fine- it's just another day in time. (C) L. RAMS 070715