The pearly white glow of the sunlit sky
Her blue faced veiled with cloud
Rings true to the fire within mine eye
Where the Song sings true and loud.
Gray fingers reaching ever higher
Red flowers grace their skin
Above, a courting, darting flier
Breast as red as the blood within.
The wind courses sweet and crisp to me
Dancing through puddle and melt
Never before has the sweetness of spring
Ever been so keenly felt.
In death lies the promise of life again
So we were, and once more shall be
Rising and falling, what’s torn shall mend
Thus I name the Storm – and she is Free.