Storm

The days have been wet and dismal lately (I hate the rain. It’s June, it should be sunny and warm!) and this is what has come of the constant thrum of rain against my roof…

Blue becomes gray,
the air grows heavy.
Faces turn up, expectant.
But no drops fall
and the sky seems still.

It is almost as if the clouds
are holding their breath,
waiting for the perfect moment
to shower those below
with their handiwork.

The sky seems to sigh
when it opens, and rain pours
over streets and rooftops,
sheets of music streaming down from above.
The pitter-patter of the falling drops
are a song only the sky can make.

This storm is just
one a small part
of Mother Nature’s grand opus.

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