POETRY: Thunderstorm

Like the smallest pebbles
The drops of rain fall
Gently and soothing
Upon the windowsill.
As the wind blows,
They change direction,
Spattering against the glass.
Cleaning away the grime
Of a city caked in dust.
Bright white flashes of light
Brilliantly flare in the sky
As the sound of thunder
Crashes against the walls
And shakes them to their core.
I sit quietly in my room
And close my eyes
And imagine myself
Drenched in rainfall.
The wild weather’s wrath
Encircling me in fury.
Washing me clean.
For the water cleanses
My soul and senses.
And as the rain subsides
So do I return
To everyday life.