Marcy

In the distance lightning flashes,
Soon thunder fills the air,
Water glistens on dancing leaves,
The storm’s approach we hear,
A steady breeze begins to blow,
As raindrops pelt the skin,
Soon we’re soaked by the rain,
As water drips from the chin.
 
 
The lightning flashes in brilliant repose,
Within moments the thunder roars,
As a face stares at the heavens,
And the rain begins to pour,
Is there solace in the fury,
Is there comfort in the beat,
Raindrops drum on the skin,
Falling in blowing sheets.
 
 
Are the lightning flashes memories,
That somehow came alive,
While the thunder seems to say,
Love long ago arrived,
Darkness spreads across the scene,
But the storm does not abate,
Our sight now comes in glimpses,
As the thunder seems to wait.
 
 
The darkness becomes a curtain,
That is raised with each flash of light,
While the thunder becomes a signal,
For the returning of the night,
Our senses seem to come alive,
With each roar and flash,
For moments we’re allowed to see,
As the sight withdraws with every crash.
 
 
The darkness becomes an expectation,
That the light will surely come,
To light the way for our forward path,
But hide where we come from,
Is the storm our isolation,
Or an echo of all we feel,
That place where love still survives,
Where our emotions are something real.
 
 
The raindrops are the tears we shed,
The lightning love we see,
The thunder becomes the voice we hear,
The wind what sets love free,
Darkness becomes the time alone,
Though in essence it’s not that way,
Because the storm proves love is still alive,
If we hear what the heart can say.

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