Is there music of love, within a thunderstorm?
Across the valley above the mountains to the west, flashes of lighting silhouette the clouds in the sky, revealing with each flash the peaks of the mountains that will not let this storm pass over into the valley.
By the touch of the skin, do you feel the breeze of the downdraft that would carry the thunder of the lightning across the mountains into the valley?
From the porch, we look upon a maple tree whose height says it is an elder to mother earth. A crescent moon this night is playing within the branches, while moonlight dances upon the clouds that try to hide crescent moon. To no avail her light to bright she shines through them and embraces them with golden halos.
Stray clouds of gray when they pass before her that have strayed from the true path of the thunderstorm. Crescent moon lights there way on this side of the mountains.
The branches of mother earth elder, so tall this maple tree, crescent moon can play within her upper most branches.
Venus is seen low in the sky, the big dipper right above us. Yet to the north, flashes of lighting whose light reflects upon the clouds, brief snapshots revealing shadows of the mountains it could not pass over.
Even the night has its song. Though we do not hear the thunder, we watch the dance of crescent moon and thunderbolts. Blood of mother earth is flowing, only seek to hear the heartbeat of mother earth within the thunder drum.




