To be honest,
I think it’s untrue that thunder is meant to frighten,
to warn of a coming storm.
I think it’s nature’s call to throw open windows,
to for once enjoy something with open arms,
faces open to the sky, eyes closed and lashes laden with drops.
I also think we make way too many shutters
with tightly
stacked
wooden slats,
nailed to all walls to cover every window
of opportunity;
because we want to shelter our poor, supposedly fragile,
mercifully warm bodies from the elements,
from cold rain, cooling wind, colder snow.
Chill out.
Parents frantically shield their children in a noble,
albeit misguided, crusade to prevent their “little Timmy”
from experiencing anything at all.
Chill out, you, sit in the rain for a minute,
let the rolling thunder lull you
to…  
a slightly less high-strung existence, at least.
Where I come from, the worst bees can do is
sting you, you let it hurt for a little and then
it’s all okay, no (real) harm no foul,
and in the end you got to sit outside
and do your homework in the sunshine.
My mother always said not to eat the cookie dough,
that raw eggs would give you salmonella.
My sister used to sneak me bites anyways,
with a wink, because
“I haven’t got salmonella yet, and I always eat the dough!”
It was a risk worth taking.
I don’t consider myself one of those people
who would call others “snowflakes” for being
a bit more hesitant in the world,
for telling their kids not to eat the cookie dough,
for wanting a better, safer existence for the next generation,
but dear god do I think
we all should be allowed to climb trees,
scrape knees,
and live a little.
but enough about me—
Did your parents let you live?
You’re in charge now, have you ever let yourself live?
Do you want to go outside and spin
in dizzy circles
in the rain with me?