The Tree

As I stood there in the cold, icy chill,

it was home.

In front of me was the quiet,

whistling, still, ocean.

Above me were the darkening clouds,

I was as cold as a mountain,

covered with great, white snow.

Above the dense clouds,

I felt the raindrops.

Raindrops pouring,

like rice into a bowl. 

Finally, a big storm came,

as hard as a tsunami.

Far away, I saw the army.