Such a sad sky – grey clouds
heavy with tears. Waves of white
linen cover sweeping undercurrents
of gathering dark.

Anticipation hangs
in moist air. One can almost
taste rain, feel rapturous letting go, sweet
sound, serenity.

Wide blue sky of my soul
holds back fury of this storm.
A cloud changing form, I ride prevailing
wind. Waiting for what?

Afraid that I will break
and spill forth rivers of rain,
I wonder: does everyone know my need
for cleansing, relief?