About a Storm

The clouds have lost their shape, blended even,

Their grey blanket dusk-like over the day,

Untimely calling out to the dark

Before the keepers of light could have their say.

Sweat that streamed freely down in the blazing sun,

Bead up now where they form on my skin,

Sit on through your oppressive prelude

Waiting to be washed away when you come in.

The birds fly back silently to their nests,

Tiptoeing through the still afternoon air,

For they too perhaps sense your arrival,

Caught up in the foreboding that I share.

The wind comes first behind a wall of dust,

Screaming in through, stripping trees of their leaves,

Followed by sheets of water born in clouds,

The rain pattering down beyond my eaves.

We shutter ourselves up in the house

While you swirl around it whistling our names,

Till the knocking on the windows die down,

After they have stopped trembling in their frames.

You leave back broken branches by my way,

Torn apart from where they used to dangle,

The rain-washed breeze blowing past them bring

The scent of wet earth rising through their tangle.

Awakened

Its been months since I chose to turn my back,

Shut out your love which like the glowing sun,

Constant over the long Artic summer,

Called me home from above your horizon.

I wasn't afraid that your sun would set,

The last rays leaving me cold in the dark,

For it wasn't like a spoken promise,

Words washed away without leaving a mark.

I opened up in parts to the light,

Pouring in through the skylight you had restored,

Chasing away shadows from the corners

Where the mirror to my thoughts lay ignored.

Brushing aside the dust of my mistrust,

I found outlined in that once polished glass,

A reflection of what you must have felt,

Of unasked questions you had let me pass.

Together we will unearth those answers

Inside the garden you have just planted,

My frozen wastes that were barren transformed,

As I now too want what you have wanted.