The first time it happened
you were a typhoon.
You crashed against my shores with no warning
and no prediction.
The levy was broken.
I was thrown into your gusts,
your rains
and I felt the full force
of your destruction.
I waited for your storm to pass
but a grey fog
blocked my sun for months.
and when the skies cleared up again
I walked down the streets I thought I knew
and stared at crumbled foundations
your brokenness,
your pernicious wake.

The second time it happened,
you were a thunderstorm.
Thunder boomed
lightening struck
and I was drenched by the rain.
My new shoes were soaked
and my hair was ruined.
I reached shelter
and watched your storm rage outside.
I sat under a roof
and I stayed warm in another's arms.
Your storm passed quickly
and their were no flash floods.
The rain bloomed the flowers
and the grass looked a little greener.

The third time it happened
you were a raindrop.
You struck my arm on a bright summer day
and evaporated into the heat
before I even had the chance
to see the spot where you touched me.
I wasn't even sure
if I had felt something
or if it was in my head.
The sun beat down on the Earth
and the light radiated through the world.
No storms were coming,
and no destruction followed.
You were a solitary
imaginary
drop.
Which left my mind before it nestled into place.