Rolling growling shoving my mood aside, the blackness of the cloud bigger, louder than the blackness of my mood, as though I have no right to try to match nature’s mood. Burly and stomping through the heavens
dumping cooling rain,
icy hail no matter where it lands. Allowing lightning to pierce the bulky cloud for a
fraction of a second. Just long
enough to see a dripping lamp post,
a shining street. Silence within the
storm, between raindrops and hail
bouncing on sidewalks and
pavement. Then it stalks away,
leaving the drip drip drip
from the rain-washed city,
promising to return.
“There’s something about violently, growling thunder….
and the sound of hard racing rain that settles my spirit.”
~ Niedria Kenny, Compilation of Contemplation
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