Remnants of the orange ball in the trees and a shift of neon in the clouds

Distant thunder, unsure of its capabilities, still too young to know

Cool, light breeze that smells of a moisture urging to wet the barren fields

Swift wind from the North, leaves blowing in warning, tree behind my back shifting slightly

Clouds gone dark and gray; the wind chills me - I shiver

More darkness, still enough to see; clear to the west but stormy overcast

A drip, and then another; I run to shelter

And from there, the rain spills out from the clouds all the misery that has been waiting

Just like me, who has been stilled the entire day, for this moment of suffering

Yes, it is not in vain; I suffer because I must

The rain now beats on the roof and outside my window; frustration and anger

It knew the buildup was just waiting, and come it did

Wash away the tears, cleanse the soul once more, stop and listen

Feel the spirit; the core still burns fiercely - let go, you are free

Nothing will damper that fire, but the outer parts must be cleansed

Now mind and body are as one, and perhaps the hope of another sunrise will still shine through.

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