Dark clouds amass,

bloom at the horizon.

Sunrise, moonrise,

why not Cloudrise?

Change is coming,

brewing like a storm.

Lightning flashes.

Thunder rolls.

If you want symbols,

look over at that burning tree.

Pictures flicker

in the mind's power cut.

Candle flame in a breeze,

though this draught was a gale.

The moans unfurl like smoke wisps.

Stillness.

Somehow it unsettles more than movement.

Straining ears in the dead

of the night,

stranded alone in the news.

Time beckons.

You watch it moving on,

resent it.

But even your pain

cannot will The Way

to change.

Light breaks.

The sun melts the clouds away.

It has transported them

to the skies in your heart.

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