It falls as though there's no choice in the matter, as though it can only open up instead of shutting out.
Cleansing the earth, bringing life frmo destruction and chaos, it creates and revitalizes.
The thunder rolls across the sky as an angry lover reprimands.
Clouds show disconten in life by turning a sour color grey and spitting into humanity.
Looking into the sky, seeing nothing as beautiful as disruption and malice written on Her face, laughing at the scowl She's created to mimic Father Time.
They are forever in dischord, for He demands She listen to reason and reality, and She only wishes to create havic and difference.
She is Mother Nature, fierce in Her anger and demanding as only a woman's figment can be.
We respect Her, fear Her at times, and even sense her growing anxiosness at times, yet, even then, we are in awe of Her magnitude and, often, grace.
She is, upon close inspection, a close relative to Harmony.