Recovery

The ground is blue
Bathed in a silver blanket
A gift from the moon
The area is undisturbed
And peaceful
But then it happens
The winds pick up
And the clouds blow in
The rains come down
And the waters rise
Fires spread with the winds
The once beautiful land
Is now gone
Destroyed
How could is ever recover?
But that's the funny thing about nature
She always recovers
It could take weeks, months, years
But somehow, someday
The moon will spread her blanket
Over the beautiful, peaceful land
Once again.