Thunderstorm

Thunderstorm

The storm above the river roared,
With all its gathered might,
Recalling ancient legends stored,
The Thunder-maker's sight.

"It is God's wrath upon the lost,"
They crossed themselves in fear,"
A heavy price the proud will cost,
To make the sinners clear."

The storm played out and took its rest,
The Oyat filled with rain,
A river with good meaning blessed,
To find life's sense again...