The rain is coming,
Hard and fast.
Will it break the thin glass?
There are strikes of lightning in the sky,
Sounds of thunder follow close behind.
The window is blown open,
The air is cold and clean.
With each breeze comes more rain.
It blows into my house,
Creating beads on my arms and face.
To be outside,
What a wonderful thing.
To be refreshed by such a loving beauty.