Storm
Long silver hair wicking around the trees
She stands alone
Her eyes as grey as storm clouds
She would kill anyone that would dare look her in the eyes
The wind serving as her chariot
Waiting for the calmness, she strikes in her godly manner
Everyone unknowledgeable of her next move
Her tears becoming rain
Her skin becoming snow
She makes the earth beautiful
She waves her arms and calms the winds
Then walks away
Her job is done