We are watching from the balconies,
as a storm forms just past the beach.
Humanity is always waiting
with bated breath to see Nature's next move.
Holding moments like photographs. Like when the
lightning flashes and highlights
the clouds with a background of
shocking white. Contrasts so stark,
I know I will remember this when
I next question what power is.
Thunder that can shake the ground
below our feet, seems wasted
on an empty sea. It's easy to feel thwarted
as the dingy clouds huddle away from you,
but this is a traveling entertainment. They are
only heading for the center, the point of lowest pressure,
like lint to static. Where they can add their girth
to the weather's wrath. The last ingredient to
catalyze a most splendid movement.
A spectacle bright enough to deafen,
an electric opera arranged to fit the sounds of the tide coming in.