It was the thunder
that told us
her bedtime story
that night

tales of new life
of rains, spring
and morning flowers
far, far away

a storm story
to sing us to sleep.

I find the world the most beautiful when it rains
And I do not mean light summer drizzles with soft cotton clouds
I mean earth destroying claps of thunder
I find the world the most beautiful when it pours
When the sky is ballpoint pen navy and the clouds onx stones
The worlds utterly breathtaking when the cosmos seem to rumble and tremor
The world is so gorgeous when the wind whips across skin like barbed wire tearing across the surface
I am not a religious person but the closest I’ve come to believing in god is standing in the middle of his storm
Palms turned to the sky drowning in his salvation singing praises of hallelujah
Hallelujah thank you lord
The closets I’ve come to feeling religion is seeing the tempest being realesed like a holy beast for the swell of rain is not gods tears
It’s gods anguish
Sputtering out in the form of bone splintering white-hot static
Angels have often been portrayed as soft wispy creatures
But they are really the children of typhoons
Weeping their fat chilling tears into the soil
For they are crying for our sins The haunting call of ***** music ripping through their vocal chords raining onto the pavement
These rain drop bullets are not signs of gods sadness
They are signs of gods wrath
Tearing up the earth like a war zone
Punishing us for our misdeeds
In these times god is reducing us back to the simple creatures that we are
Because not even humans can control his vexations
We in these moments are brought back down to our knees in prayer
Our petty ‘Forgive me father”s slipping down our tongue like water droplets
Pleading begging screaming out over the crackles of lighting
Screaming out over gods wrath
But by God this sight of destruction is nothing but beautiful
And yet
The world is the most beautiful when it pours
But it is utterly ethereal in its aftermath
In the still clean quite like an empty chapel
The sun rearing it’s head from behind wispy feather clouds
All is calm
For this is the worlds post-baptism
It’s rejuvenation
It’s rebirth
Water droplets trickling down stain glass pink petals
The dove re-emerges calling out its choir song
The bluebird responds humming out his own hymns
The closest I’ve come to believing in god is in the wake of the storm
In the hush of washed out sins repainted pale blue
For in this moment we are all reduced to nothing but Gods children
In the peace after the storm

Rainy days and dripping windows,
Once again, beside my pillow,
I lay upon my bed alone,
But in a place to me, unknown.

Day two, beyond the first “hello’s”,
Clouds still hover, and even billow,
They say goodbye to each of their own,
They thunder and sprinkle before heading on home.

After their hastened diminuendo,
Most clouds scatter among the fellow.
I compare to them to see how I’ve grown,
knowing rain brings a harvest from a seed that was sewn.

I love you,
When I am happy,
The sky is blue,
The Sun is shining sheepishly at me.
I love you,
When anger stains my soul,
The clouds clash thunderously,
The wind howls incessantly.
I love you,
When life knocks me down,
The moon lovingly beckons me to hold on.
I love you,
When fear grips me,
The night is dark,
And the twinkling stars cuddle me close,
I love you when I am filled with
various  emotions,
Raindrops of tears,snowflakes of laughter and hail of sorrow.
I love you, rain or shine,
To the depths of my heart.

I try to forget your name,
But I keep seeing it in lightning
And I hear it in the rain.
I tried to scream
like thunder,
crying for you to stay,
But the words
fall out my mouth
like leaves,
And the wind
only blows them away.

You left me in the dark
just for me to know
I was in the shadow too.

After all I'm not surprised
I recognize
you must carry on.

Now that the thunder starts
I might let you know
that you could have done better.

I said things I shouldn't
and didn't say other things
that I should have.

I don't know if I feel relieved
or sad in a way that makes me
go to the heartbreak hotel.

All I wish for is an everlasting storm,
whose thunder will soothe me to sleep
when people fail to do so,
and startle me at weird moments,
putting a grin on my face.
Lightning that will wake me up,
and pull me out of exhaustion's grasp for a brief moment,
a moment of awe,
and add a sparkle to my eyes when I most need it.
A storm with heavy rain,
adept at hiding tears from prying eyes
and muffling escaped cries
with constant drumming on the roof,
distracting others from my pain.
Rain that cools down blushes and keeps me humble
because ****,
my hair looks awful when it's wet.
Wind that can pick me up
and take me somewhere else, anywhere,
or blow my hair in strange ways to make me laugh, a least.
I want a storm to keep me company,
because sometimes people just won't do.

What happened after that?
What happened when all the lights went out in the storm?
Did you feel afraid or did it make you feel reborn?

What happened before?
What happened before your heart knew how it felt?
Did you accept or did you challenge the cards you were dealt?

What happens now?
Because I don't know how I feel
and I can't tell whether this storm is real.

Heartbeats sound like thunder,
dwelling from under,
and now I hate when it rains.