In Play With The Storm

the heavens grumble
and its echoes rumble
grey ocean of thunder,
dense, rhythmic clapping
in storm-clouds wrapping
the world down under

my small flapping wings
struggle against stings
of rain tripping and lashing,
the windy trees bending;
proud shadows extending,
sheet lightning flashing...

in play with the storm
I seek where it’s warm
in the lee of my nest;
dancing and diving
and finally arriving
I huddle, content, to rest.

Written for "The Writer's Cramp" 
Prompt: Write about a storm using the viewpoint of a bird.
Lines: 18