Flood

Water rushing in its bed

Swallowing homes but still not fed

People are often terrified at the hit

But they do not see the real beauty of it

It rises toward the tops of the trees

Bulldozing everything it sees

As it moves bit by bit

But they do not see the real beauty of it

It rushes mighty and strong

Across every crack and pit

Beating against trees to play its warrior song

But they do not see the real beauty of it