Smell of the Storm

It smells like rain
Small dropped spattering in the dust
Holding there, a little liquid stain
And then fading, lost in soil's dry lust

It smells like the wind
The sky burns gray overyhead
The yellow trees tormented by howling godsend
The unceasing drizzle spatters living and dead

It smells like lightning
Electricity hanging heavy in the air
Permeating everything -
A sharp crackle in loose hair

It smells like life
Plants blooming, soon
Water come to starved roots, rife -
With potenting buds, dreaming of monsoon

It smells like a storm.