nature's covert messaging

for what's deeper than

glaciers speaking up

by a confessional, 

melting into the sky?

fog traveling, 

as intimately breath-aware 

when meeting us,

for puddles proposing 

as mirror time 

in our face-down greetings?

for sunups, 

that pull the night-covers back 

to reveal the light of the day?

for rain, 

that is only the carwash 

for the vehicle of the mind?

for volcanic lightening 

that is really the static cling 

from their own thermal hose?

for a green flash to be

a make-a-wish, 

in which the sky comes to approve?

for a rainbow 

that is a prismatic adventure 

into sunlight wizardry?

for static electricity 

to come to do such a wack-job 

on one's own hair?

for rust, 

that is slowly storytelling, 

to be beyond 

a listen's want to grasp?

for a supernova,

that is rarely visually appearing, 

yet functions as a deep sky-light yawn?

for an earthquake 

presenting as mother-nature, 

that slams the downstairs front door, 

really hard?

for a dam break, 

to be as a flood of tears 

from an earthbound emotion?

for a landslide, 

to be as if a reason for 

gravity telling the truth 

that is a real comedown?

for thunder, 

to be as the next-door neighbors 

getting unexpectedly rumbling loud?

for a cloudburst to be

as if sky-counter-top spillage

from an accidental clumsy?

for tornadoes,

to be as if the heat and wind 

are formally in rutting season 

and are out of control?

for a tidal wave to be, 

as if that water's version 

of a Black-Friday crowded shopping spree?

for a volcano to be,

as if acne of the earth-surface 

was somehow made real?

for a heatwave to be,

as if somehow 

the county-wide air-conditioner broke down? 

and for a snowstorm to be,

as if weather had pillow fight, 

that got really out of hand . . .