The Storm

I lay naked-soul on the whitest sands with clearest of water crashing at my feet. The sun kisses my skin and warms my spirit. The crashing waves bring me peace.

The rolling, rumbling sound of thunder is heard in the closing distance. I look up to see the grays of clouds slowly overtake the sun. The cool, salty wind grows strong and wraps my naked body.

The gentle drizzle dances across my holy shore and kisses my bare chest and face.

The storm is coming; I do not fear her but adore her.

I will know no loss for she brings me all.

Andrew Franks