the rain will fall

a storm came through the other day. swept in its presence, both internally and externally, i found words.

The sky is dark and gray
as brutal Nature
offers me a shovel for digging.

Breathing deeply
on the swaying pine trees
the wind tosses those silent givers.

The rain waits on fear,
but the cannons and flashes displace the peace -
a presence that leaves me

exhilarated, and sad.
My soul mingles
deep in the soil with those fallen trees.

I follow these ripples in the calm, scared -
and the rain begins to fall.
Soaked with unease

I run for shelter in my
dampened spirit,
and the birds sing in the storm.

They sing about patience
and allowing
the sky to darken.