On the last day of June
we welcomed a summer monsoon
tourist season, they say
The warnings were out all week
but on this Tuesday
the sky was in disarray, you could say
The conflict escalated
to new heights.
How quickly
moods can change.
How dark and eerie it became
for afternoon
we heard its dreary ominous tune.
It began from afar
amassing volume like confidence
and girth like tumbleweed
resounding and thick
marching on men
Then-
something heavy dropping
we look for what
or where, as though the air
up there was a source we
have sought successfully,
like a rope swing
with a loosening knot.
Looking up as though we speak sky
we get the angry message anyway
Its speech is joined by errant spit
large droplets fly
reading the notes
playing the part
of bass through bones.
My child said she felt minor
under the orchestrated stratosphere
not in those words
more like small;
trivial and timid.
The cats have all hidden
as car alarms cry wolf.
Homey windows rattle in their jamb
echoing for
a pyrotechnical encore
Instigating more friction
rolling slowly by the speed of sound
shouts rumble, muffled rebound.
Venting steam by shouts
just hollow threats
and yet we still feel a tremble
in carnal fear
like the scaredy cats
cowering because they
under-stand-what
we cannot hear.
Followed by flashes
of ignored intuition
stuck, grounded, in opposition,
weighted with worry.
The higher we climb
on leaded ladders limbs
the heavier and
louder the clatter
as it peals back
winding up
to take a crack
and shatter the fear
in what you do hear
and not a decible more
from traveling Thor
who was just rolling by,
warning of traffic in the sky.
Image By Prashanthns (Own work) [GFDL 1.2 (http://www.gnu.org/licenses/old-licenses/fdl-1.2.html), CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons.
