Today's Storm

Birds fly in the face of our storm, but we sit and stare in awe, primal memories mesmerized, knocking on our universal door of consciousness, unconsciously locking us in place with counterpointed time to the moment Noah said a final goodbye and the heavens raged. Through the thunder's roar,we remember -- relieved, comforted by promise of a rainbow. Morning passes into afternoon within rivuleted force until evening when the pelting softens and drops not fury but fans out into sprays that gentle our minds and dance like points of diamond-dew through the signpost trees; responding simultaneously the birds reappear out of invisible mist. They sing and flash their wings in ablution and we exhale the seed of warning, turning back into life as usual -- forgetting the past and the promised fire.