Poem: The Other Side of the Storm


The Other Side of the Storm

Soon, it will be raining.
You can see the clouds across the valley.
The dark line of rain as it moves,
taking the autumn color and rendering it gray,

Soon it will be raining.
You sit in the October sunlight,
basking in the temporary warmth,
perfectly aware
the storm will soon be upon you.

You can smell it. The rain.
Even miles away, you can smell its damp coolness.
There is a strange beauty in the way it swallows the light,
a creeping counterpoint to your patch of sunshine
overlooking the river.

You could curse the weather.
Certainly, you have in storms past.
But your cursing days are behind you,
your fruitless oaths and complaints no more
than wasted breath.

Better to enjoy the sun while you have it,
then praise God you have shelter from the storm
Four solid walls and windows. A slate roof
and a fire. A place to watch rain and wait
for rainbows.

About this poem

Yesterday I was sitting on a bluff overlooking the Hudson River, watching the rain draw closer. There was thunder and lightning. The picture above was taken as I sat there.

When the rain came, it was hard and loud with frozen globs of stuff mixed in and splattering my windshield as I got in my car and drove home. Half an hour later, there were rainbows.

And this morning, this poem.


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