He saw emotion in the sky's division
As all else stood below emotionless
The air carried a mixture to his senses
A blend of elemental cookery he was able to digest
Scattered energy danced on the surface of his eyes
As he let in the magic about
The power in slow movement and weather instancy
Etched upon his sight
Life in drops were in that fleeting storm fall
As his though short, numbered many times before
He knew off in his distance, when storms would greet his age
Word would roll from him
as the gathered clouds
And echo over minds
as the calling thunder
mF
(C) MarkFlood2014 + image
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