Gently whispering among the trees,

The wind starts gathering its wings-

Slowly.

With rain as its bosom friend,

A light, misty and airy scene-

Refreshing.

Many strokes on the window panes,

Patterns start appearing galore,

As though rain and wind are artists.

And maybe they are-

For they can make red, brown and orange autumn leaves lie in wake on the pavements.

And shape icebergs at the poles.

In a whirl,

Typhoons and twisters can form too with a mighty force,

Changing the urban landscape with toppled buildings and wrecked ruins.

When once the human race thinks we are supreme,

Mother Nature is here to remind us again we are not,

For we are just fragile human beings after all.