The sky!

The sky, a canvas gray,

With clouds that gather, day by day.

A storm is brewing, dark and deep,

The trees below, in silence creep.

The wind it howls, a mournful sigh,

As clouds converge, the sky grows dry.

The air is thick, with electric charge,

A tempest stirs, with turbulent discharge.

The clouds, a mass, of swirling gray,

A vortex forms, in a chaotic way.

The sky, a stage, for nature's might,

A storm unfolds, in all its light.

The trees, they sway, in the wind's caress,

As the storm's fury, begins to impress.

The sky, a mirror, to the soul,

Reflects the turmoil, that makes us whole.

In this gray sky, we find our peace,

A calm within, the storm's wild release.

For in the turbulence, we find our strength,

And in the gray, a beauty at length.