Thunder and earth and the rain again

And it has started again,

The thunder in the sky, the outpouring of rain

And all the irrelevant things that happen in between,

The thunder and the rain and the fearful longing;

It’s a downpour;

It fills me with fear

Although I have witnessed such happenings time and again,

It’s the irrelevant that precedes and persuades to believe

That the timbre is what endures. It does not wear away with the inclement air

The thunder reminds, the sound is a menace

And the rain follows gently to counter its claim

Over all that shivers and hides away.

The whisper, the gentle persuasion

Of the water falling

Down from the distant sky.

But the fear, the ancient, primeval , archetypal fear

The fever not subsiding, the ripples not dying,

And the rain taking over with a darkness conspiring.

One doesn’t know if this is swooning, drifting, slipping away

Or simply a synthesizer calling

In tune that sings with the rhythmic fall and the rise of the rain.

The aroma spreads; it drowns the rain,

The aroma of the earth that seeps in

Pervades and fills in the crevices

That  were waiting for the rain,

Waiting for the voice that calls again;

The voice, the rain, the darkening horizon and the melting sky,

And  the whole of me crying,

“Where am I?”