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The Preternatural
The wild call, the indescribable sound that
Makes you answer,
To live and ride upon a cloud of dew
Fall exotic drops, precious gem stones of sarphire
The Saharas, they listen; imagine what they are, making something else of themselves
'What a sweet story' they say to the sands
Let winds howl, and scream with "Thank-you's"
Waters fall, descending like sea-shaped anchors
They ride with you, upon a stratus of mist
Refresheners perfect, in hales until
Suddenly, a shine aloft
Brings silence: nothing inside
Dissipating each and every drop; for you can't live solely
Preternatural rains shall fall on solid ground;
To run a million ways,
Back to misting life
Love of thunder and lightning,
Takes
Such
Mist
Away...
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