He conducted in the darkness around him
He moved clouds into storms.
Only it was a vision to him; fantasy was to be more.
So he ran across the desert, the road trembled beneath his feet.
Out in the range a river of clouds came.
He waved his hands in a tempo so smooth and powerful.
Keeping a hand for tempo, he raised his left hand for a crescendo.
The ground fell from his feet, and he levitated with his passion.
His anger moved slowly, his art finally prevailed.
Who is he? This god is me.
I am the bringer of rain.
