Yeah, everyone gets down. Sometimes the words come, and sometimes they don't. This one, I'll put in the next poetry collection, even though it's neither fantasy, nor science fiction - or anything in between.
I am the rage of the mountain
the bitter cold of the snow
I have fallen from the great clouds
flowed to the rivers below
been drawn from the oceans as vapour
the nothing mist filling all
become the thunderhead by the great peaks
been the thunder’s rumble, the lightning’s ball
I am the mutter of storm clouds
all noise but of substance none
I am the cold of the shadow
the slow-blooming warmth of the sun
I am the intangible, the unseen and oft-heard
like snow’s cold, and sunshine’s warmth
a presence sensed more than felt,
and oft negated and ignored.
Peace, fellow sentients - and may your day be blessed, and your mind at ease.
And, if you're curious about my earlier forays into verse, you can find my poetry collections, 365 Days of Poetry, and 366 Days of Poetry, at most of the major venues. Both are mainly science fiction and fantasy poems, and I'll be working on new covers for them, but, in the meantime, the universal link will guide you there.