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. -RA