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After the Storm

One storm passed another came, the wind howled and leaves rode the harsh breeze.

Laying still looking up she watched the clouds turn dark, then closed them as the rains came down.

The drops cool to the touch were refreshing, cleansing even.

She lays there and feels more at peace than she had in a while, for the briefest of moments she was content.

Then the winds blew harder, leaves swirled in their vortexes while she spiraled in her own.

Soon the rain fell harder and the winds whipped faster, both beating against her and trying to blow her away.

Then there's a calm, and an impenetrable silence that follows the storms ending, the dust settles and all is quite.

They say there's a calm before the storm, they fail to mention however the aftermath when it's over.
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