I enjoy a thunderstorm
the show; that’s in the sky,
for it reminds; our busy swarm,
to ask the question, why?
Why do we think; we’re masters?
When the elements dictate,
such natural disasters;
halts designs for hate -
for danger is to swing a club,
as the lightning strikes,
safety could be found be in pub
but, beware of spikes -
tainting every mind some more
leaks begin to drop,
let such a natural downpour,
become a mental cloth –
that wipes away the notion
of: “humanity in charge”,
just hear the thunder’s motion
of it, living it large, as -
ancient deluge washes,
away our hollow crown,
in its way it squashes,
our schemes of “happy town!”