The Rainstorm

A cold, fat drop slides down my cheek. 

A tear that has been crying for a lifetime of trees,

for an epoch of men.

Sudden breaking. 

Hammering.

Thundering.

No longer to be ignored.

No longer to be forgotten behind the pettiness of our days.

Water as true power.

Water as angry deity pouring wrath down as rain.

A last warning,

before the flood.