THE BLUE RIDGE MOUNTAINS

High upon my lofty perch
The Blue Ridge in full view
I noticed in the distance
A storm starting to brew.

Like a gray woolen blanket
On a cold winter's night
Clouds spread across the mountains
Shielding the sun's golden light.

Thunder rumbles and echoes
Across the valleys and the hills
Silencing the soft, sweet songs
Of the lonely Whippoorwills.

Across the darkened landscape
I watch a curtain of rain
Unleash heaven-sent torrents
On the thirsty, dry terrain.

Purple streaks of lightning
Dance across the sky;
A lightshow of nature
Whose beauty can't be denied.

The clouds above race quickly
Pushed by the blustery wind.
Its howling roar surrounds me
As the trees sway and bend.

I watch the storm roll away
And the sun begin to shine.
I pray a prayer of thankfulness
To the Creator Divine.