Karoo Storm

I sat on a hill and watched in seering heat,
A shadow, a fleck, a cotton bol, grey
Racing from natal water to deaths defeat,

In awe and wonder I watched it grow,
As it sailed magestically to is end.
And wished it would stay or even slow.

Heard its herald, the wind, blowing
Smelt its green, sweet, wet breath,
And felt the joy of all things growing.
For its dying gift.