A mighty cherry tree stood alone in a field, gifted with knowledge and strength beyond that twice its age.
It was visited regularly by snow, fire and a stream that withered away from him year after year, fearfull of the tree's roots.
Yet, with all its experience a storm had not graced its sky.
That is, untill one fatefull night when the moon was not to be found and the stars dim.
The storm carried with it no wind, no rain, only booming thunder and the beautiful sight of lightning.
"You're such a beautiful tree." Echoed the thunder as the lightning walked closer.
The bolts caught the grass aflame, surrounding them in the fire that the tree knew so well.
"Such a strong trunk." A bolt fizzled in the river about a mile away.
"Such beautiful blossoms you have." A patch of dirt turned to glass.
"And it would seem your roots run deep." Cracked the lightning, landing a bolt dangerously close to the tree's exposed roots.
The storm had surrounded him, lightning blurring his vision with its light and beauty.
"Strike me." Whispered the tree, limbs shaking. "Strike me, I will not fall. I will not wither or burn."
And so the storm did, several times but the tree stood firm. His blossoms were only singed, his roots making the ground quake in laughter. And, he still stood, trunk not even black from the strikes.
"May I stay with you?" Rumbled the storm, impressed and quite taken by this tree.
The ground quaked again and his blossoms shook. "Let me have my sun and give me rain and I'll let you stay forever."
Sadly, their happy time together only lasted three years.
The sky hated their happiness, trying to use him for their own gain, so he began to fight them.
The clouds of the storm were parting, patches of blue filling the space above now.
With one last bolt the storm struck the tree, a message echoing in its power.
"I'm sorry...I love you."
The tree began to shed its blossoms as it wept in sadness and despair.
With all the might in his body he attacked the sky, roots shooting upward, covered in discarded blossoms.
The effort for revenge proved fatal, as the sky turned black, depriving him of his sun.
And he too, died, swept away in flames so he could join his storm in the afterlife.
That is, if things like trees and storms actually have afterlives.
The only thing left to remember them by are singed blossoms that blow in the wind, whispering of a failed love.