Eyes closed;
Just a brief moment.
Open:
now there are wispy bits
where only blue had been.
Seconds later,
they turn
themselves into frothing
bits of colorlessness,
forming almost everywhere
that I can see in that
skyward direction.
I start to
walk towards home,
finding
grey had taken over those
unassuming clouds.
The air cools and
what had been breeze
is now bluster.
In a distance, I hear
the cr-ack of thunder.
Its electrical light show
is not here yet.
As I move up the trail,
I have the sense of looming
pursuers. Yet all I can see
are clouds and forest.
Slow heart!
Breathe deep!
My body seems unwilling
to listen.
It is caught up in the
anticipation born of the bang,
cr-ack, hovering masses of
moisture, and expectant
wind.
Should I run?
Or should I bathe in the
inescapable deluge
of cloud moisture
becoming rain gushing?
If I run, I am alive.
And I will know it.
If I stay and get
a cold shower of
heaven’s waterfall,
I certainly will know
sensation and
adrenaline.
It is inevitable:
The skies pour forth
droplets and then flow
with splashes of wetness
as clouds, gravity, and wind
collaborate to drench me.
~ spontaneously composed by Stan Stewart
~ Copyright © 2018 by Stan Stewart and muz4now, inc. All rights reserved.