rain, rain go away

Somehow I thought the crazy thunderstorm from last night might just wash away some of the gray. After a summer rainstorm, you wake up to sun shining, birds chirping and this sense of renewal like the slate’s been wiped clean. For me, however, it feels like some things were dredged up from the undercurrent that I have been swimming against for the past several weeks and it’s finally time to start skimming them out from the water surrounding me. Taking a tree limb and chucking it to shore. Picking up splintered bark and pushing it aside. Waiting for the silt and mud to settle a little bit before taking a few strokes forward and tossing myself in the current again.

Oddly enough, I slept through all the thunder and lightning, focusing on the driving sheets of rain. But it’s still left me exhausted, looking for footing where dirt, mud and water give way. Reaching out and finding a friend’s hand waiting to pull me from the muck.

“There's always a period of curious fear between the first sweet-smelling breeze and the time when the rain comes cracking down.” – Don Delillo