Tree in the Storm

The air was light and friendly,

Filled with bubbly chatter;

The smell of paint.

White filled the space in front of me

But, not for long,

As I knew,

Soon, it would burst with color.

Yet, at the same time,

THe image would form,

The grass sway, and the limbs groan.

A flash of light gave way to,

Dark,

Ominous,

But still,

Beautiful.