Like a snarling, seething wolf it comes
Enraged and belligerent
With one aim and one aim only:
To clear the decks; its talons of fury
Shredding the decaying body of inertia
Licking at the wounds of torpor.
What a display of creation is this!
The elements in divine re-orchestration
Then, finally sated, to rest
Leaving freshness and newness
Our world is refreshed
And the she-wolf can rest.
I love storm clouds. They have an ominous appearance but they do us such an act of kindness by clearing away the stagnant, stale air to make way for the fresh new air. I welcome them, just as I welcome a bad mood in myself which performs the same function