When a child hears a storm rolling
Or an old dog howls in the dead of night
And the thunder is crashing
The lightning is striking
And the heavy rain spouts outside are unfolding

That is when I
At the age fifteen
Would look to be out in the thunderous storm
Instead of inside beneath the crown molding

Such storms were the reasons why I would be smiling
But also a reason why I would get scoldings

“You’ll get struck by lighting”
Said my mother to me
And then the voice of my sister would sound out with glee
Screaming “With Mom and Dad gone, you better not die on me!”

But I didn’t care
Because out there I was free
To jump high in the storm
And even flip dangerously
Because I was a storm jumper
Destined to be