the days and hours before a thunderstorm
torture me as much with its promise of drops
as with the energy soaking the air
the days before when it tries so hard
to release what it has carried so far
and yet never seems able to let go
every day clouds cover the sky
and you stare to the heavens certain
that today will be the day it all starts
however, that not how it works
as we star skyward in endless hope
wishing, praying to be soaked
one quiet night when all the world sleeps
the clouds sneak accross the moon
and thunder starts to rumble
suddenly, all at once, and with no ceremony
lightning strikes without warning nearby
and the promised drops take flight
Written: 09 October 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love a good rain storm and everything is so fresh afterward. I enjoyed your poem, Stephanie. Keep writing and sharing. A '10! ' Best Wishes, Marilyn