I sit...
On porch swing earnest...
The heat from my tea escaping
The dark clouds reshaping

I close my eyes...
It starts with a single drop
As a word does in a book
Then...the symphony erupts
The course takes shape

Like conversations in a busy room...
Thunder takes the stand...
Demanding silence...
And with its thoughts gone the rain begins again...

Lightning and wind reaching out to be heard and seen.
But my eyes are still shut...
Will they open to a calm? Will they open at all?

Ask the rain... for it speaks in my place...