Theres a storm coming,
I can taste it in the air,
All Earth and dust,
The windchimps dance hanging from the roof,
And the tree branches sway about.
I feel the hairs on my arms stand tall,
My muscles tense waiting for the promise of thunder the seconds after lightning.
As the grey clouds surrounded me I open my arms waiting for my skin to drink in the drops of rain that will fall any moment now.
I could happily bury myself ankle deep in the ground where i stand and wait till winter comes around to wither and die like all the other flowers in the garden.
Just for one more storm....one more chance to be dampend by dew a Spring morning and perhaps plucked before supper to stand in a glass vase on the center of a dinning table.
Id spread my petals for the diner guests to coment on my colour and wouldnt at all be sad to bend gracefully in a sleep by the evening after.
My dry steam and fallen petals would be brushed into a pan and placed in the compost to help grow another flower someday....
I hope this time i turn into a Daisy.
