Beauty such as this. The wind moves across the treetops, and duplicates the waves of my ocean crashing against the the dust of shells. Even if I shall not stay, this will be comforting in any such place away. A constant reminder. Although not seen, but close at hand through what is heard. That is a reassurance thankful for. Magnificent as the blue flash on flash before the lights ceased. Bellowing of thunder soon to follow. The storm lingers on. To stay would be nice, as this is my weather. Brought on by love, whether positive or negative. Both welcome, as to make me feel. This is one thing in this place that brings serenity, my weather. That is part of my beauty, my mystery.
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