Morning Storm Rising

Morning Storm Rising- Thetis Island (painting by Donald Flather)

The water is not blue

As many would believe,

But it is many colors

Woven together to create

Choppy pattern.

Squiggly lines

Bouncing up and down as

Wind hits it,

Pushes it from shore and pulls it

Back again.

Black and yellow and green and orange

Waves swell from infancy

To the rebellious teenage years.

Closer to shore,

The dark waters are calm,

In their last stretch of life

Before they hit

Wooded land,

Cold, harsh and without

Sand to soften the blow.

The wild forest planted upon

Land not yet discovered

By man,

Untouched, incorrupt

By dirty and bloody

Hands grasping at the trees

Desperately,

Greedily stripping the land.

A horrible fate,

Perhaps,

But maybe not one

Meant for this land.

Not for the forest of Thetis Island.

Neither the dark side,

Nor the light,

Streaked by the hazy glow of

The marble above.

The sun rises,

A mass glowing orb of orange

Taking its spot in the sky,

The moon

Now forgotten by the land.

Kissed goodbye by the trees

And waved to by the woven waters.

Morning star is streaked

With dark purple-

Stratus level stretched-out

Masses of different colored

Evaporation and ice,

Light and heavy combined

Into one body.

Its light stretches over the sky,

Morphing it from

yellow to green to topaz blue to lavender to violet.

Soft sweeps surely of

God's hand create

A press and lift effect,

Where bristles brush against

Sky with heavy pressure

Followed by a flick of the wrist.

The perfect sky

Made special by God

For Thetis Island.

Creatures of the sky

Prowl their territory,

Searching for intruders

And protecting what is theirs.

Billows of cream and foam

Claim the air,

Guard it, keep it, control it, rule it.

Creatures of the day

Guard the sun from the

Approaching storm, sure to come

From the violet sky,

Where night has not yet

Lifted its curse.

Dragon's tail to the left,

The wings just above,

Shielding the Phoenix to its right.

The bird's wings are bright,

Its tail feathers stretching across the sky,

Tucked in for maximum speed.

It soars in the sky

To make sure that its

Power source,

The glowing orb in its nest,

Stays where it should.

Caterpillars rest lazily below,

Unaware of the battle being fought

To keep the beautiful glow up high.

A quail's tail

Threatens to collide with

The lazy tree murderers,

Perhaps for the good

Of the forest below

And the orb above.

Thetis Island,

Protected by many and

Surrounded by a quilt

Of colored waters, tucked away by

The orb watching above.

Untouched by man and ever so lovely.

Thetis Island,

God's perfect gift to

The Unsuspecting.