The storm

The Storm It all started with a whisper,
barely audible as it cut through my thoughts A grey cloud that drifted across the sun,
for a moment dimming a summer's day
A breeze that rustled the leaves
so gently they barely moved
The tiniest of ripples in a calm lake

Then those ripples became waves,
crashing down upon an unsettled sea
The leaves trembled in anticipation
as they were captured by a gust of wind
I looked on as the clouds danced
And rain poured from the sky
washing over the mountaintops

The whisper grew louder now,
demanding to be heard
"What is it you want?" I asked,
“You already know", the voice replied - “Change".
I closed my eyes and covered my ears, willing it to all go away
But even after the storm had passed,
nothing went back to how it was
And the voice wouldn't be silenced.