Thunderstorm

The crystal beauty of the welkin
is manifested in the evanescent revelation
- in expectation of the thunderstorm.
The bright azure of heaven,
Is changing slowly in pulsation -
transition to the cobalt blue perform.

From the closest sea, or the furthest ocean,
The restless wind is chasing gloomy clouds,
To cover the sky with this sombre mantle.
The sun is shining above this murky motion,
Moonlight got lost in the grey shrouds -
Engulfed remnants of indigo’s sky phantom.

And deep inside, a collision of the clouds
begets the roll of thunder, that followed
by a streak of lightning - illume the darkness.
Sunlight is over, no colours, no other sounds
 - only flow of heavy rain and thunder’s load.
The clouds defeat the sky – albeit this win is harmless.

But the impulse of the wind is hectic -
Will clean the sky from emaciated clouds,
retain the only fragrance of the rain in the fresh air.
The sky is turning into ultramarine – so eclectic.
No sign of storm – the right time for nature to arouse,
to be renewed, replenish vital force and flare.