I often watch with longing
the magnificence of black-blue clouds building,
growing, in the not-too-distant south.
I am drawn to them, I ache to go,
I wish to drive right into the midst of that storm,
I want to feel the lightning bolt on my skin,
I want my pulse to meet every crack of thunder
thrown in unmeasured patterns directly 'round me.
I want to be in your world, where you are present,
where pictures don’t matter, they just shift and blur
in the deluge that is my eyes.
So today is the day I follow,
the clouds have drawn me in,
I drive.
And maybe when you choose to lift your onslaught,
the world I see will have been polished, it is so clean,
where steam rises from the road, the air is cool green,
and when the trees shake their leaves, a ray of sun reflects the light,
strews down the invitation, the one I finally, will take.