Rain, Rain

a very short poem about change 

I begged the sky for rain

Gossamer clouds for a stormy song

For the Sun to go away

And for nights that last twice as long

Black boots squish against soft loam

Arcing lightning whips the skies

The whirlwind takes physical form

And grey blots out my mind

I wish that I could fly into those clouds

For while I rise and the winds buffet me

I’d feel like a balloon which has floated too high 

And I could forget myself on my arc into eternity

But even though the rain

Wipes away the person I became

It does so only for a short while

And when the clouds part once more

I stand unchanged, no more than who I am

Still me, just a little wet.