Strom ride

the wind does rip
through the rustling trees
and debris races tumbling
carried in the wind

chill is the wind
hinting at rain
and the land lies darkened
by the threatening storm

yet in endless struggle
though mightily strained
a small bird struggles
in the darkening sky

wondering gaze I
from far below
if it be hopeless
the struggle in vain

yet hope do I
triumph will be
the tiny storm rider
so high in the sky