Cleansing Poem by Edwina Reizer
Cleansing
The thunder is a-rolling
and lightning streaks the sky.
I count the seconds between then
and then I breathe a sigh
of relief.
The rain and hail are fearsome.
They pelt my windowpane.
I count the minutes I hear them
and pray they don't remain.
Mother Nature why the anger?
I guess you need to cry
and cleanse the bitter agony
that builds up by and by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 8:51:09 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
