The wind

Whispers to the trees,

Dances with the flowers,

Moans in the night like a grieving mother.

The rain

Gently falls to the ground,

Gives life to the earth like a Healer,

Brings hope to the suffering.

The sun

Stretches forth golden beams to the shadowlands,

Encourages those in despair,

Chases away the darkness.

The moon

Sheds it tender light on weary midnight travelers,

Keeps Company with the stars,

Smiles at the young children in bed.

The darkness

Tries to steal away the light,

Moves like a thief in the night,

Wraps itself in a cloak that is blacker than black.

The thunder

Complains and rumbles like a discontented child,

Looms large and threatening over the prairies,

And yet brings inspiration to the aspiring Authoress.