Rain in the Distance

There is rain in the distance,
dark shadows in the sky,
moisture heavy in the air.

Watch a while. There is lightning,
so far away there is no sound,
only flashes in the clouds.

You do not kid yourself.
You will not escape. It comes.
Inexorably. Towards you.

There is rain in the distance.
It comes. You stand.
Gazing at the wall of it, approaching,

in no hurry to go inside.
The hairs on your arm tingling
with each lightning bolt flash.

You do not feel the threat.
Oh, you know it is there. For certain,
but you do not feel it, you feel

fascination.

Fascination at the approach.
At the darkening sky. The fleeing birds.
The change in air pressure is palpable.

A whole world in flux
as you watch. Tempted to dance
like a shaman, like David with the Ark,

A glorious madman in the rain.
In love with it. The threat, The promise.
All things you have survived before.

There is rain in the distance.

About this poem.

The rains in Florida are magical to me. Walls of water. You can see the line between sunny and storm as it comes towards you. I should probably be more afraid of them.

Or a poem about life, which has its own storms, lightning and all.

If you are not familiar with the story of David dancing in the bible, It came after he had reclaimed the Ark of the Covenant from the Philistines, and in joy, he danced as they brought it home. Danced with abandon. It was scandalous. It was wonderful. (2 Samuel 6:14-22)

Tom