Storm

Dewdrops settle softly
on unfurling crimson
petals of a morning rose
a spider weaves
a silken web of light
sacred rays of sun
break through the heavy mist
to shine and reflect
off liquid mirrors
but far from the west
darkness rolls back in
black clouds darken
the blessed sky
the wind rips around
shreds the web
the silk lace so carfully spun
tears the petals
from such delicate beauty
rain falls in torrents
drowning the spider
in a muddy river
and then
so quickly, it leaves
its job is done
all is destroyed
and light shines once more
through angry clouds
to cast its rays
upon the last petals
of the scarlet rose
a soft wind blows
comforting
but still,
too much strength
the brown and wilting petals
fall slowly, to decay
all is lost