Rain Poem by Sam Boehms

Shards of glass glistening against ominous black. Lightning strikes and brings the noon day sun to illuminate the landscape in electric white. Thunder rumbles and grumbles like a lioness mother prone for the pounce. The hair is left dripping, the feet washed clean. A dog quivers in the dark, tail tucked between his legs, awaiting the return of his master. The wind lays low and mother earth's breath steams across the grasslands. The roots relish the thirst quenching torrents that rage above their deep seated veins.

All is good.