Tomorrow’s Song

Wind
Blows like a gentle secret
Combs like a lioness cleans her cubs
Rushes like a dancing emerald sea
Howls like a Wild West train

Water
Taps like an impatient finger
Trickles like a dream-weary ballad
Patters like a snare drum line
Crashes like two colliding rams

Lightning
Rumbles like a laughing sailcloth
Webs like a fractured pane of glass
Strikes like a dying bulb
Booms like the cannon cries

Fire
Crackles like discarded paper
Hisses like a hydraulic press
Pops like young hands on bubble wrap
Roars like a bright and raging forge

If we listen, we will hear
That Nature has a melody
But it’s what we do today
That preserves Her voice for
Tomorrow’s Song