Come Storm (Written August 13, 2019)
Ah, what a musty mess the air is today.
Is it just me feeling like the air is too heavy?
Is musty the right word? Or is muggy what I mean?
I’m not certain, but I think they both fit perfectly.
It’s hard to breath when the air is like this,
And a light breeze can only stir the stale air around.
What a predicament, outside air that still isn’t fresh.
No wonder life is so stifled in this town.
I wonder, is it time to leave this place?
Should I try to find somewhere I can breathe easy?
I love this place, but what’s there I can do?
My lungs can only be what any lungs can be.
Ah, well, at least it smells like rain.
Come storm! Blow off this choking air!
Come lightning, strike the stillness away,
The clouds may block the sun for a while
But when they clear how beautiful is that day?
And is it really so bad to get soaked in the rain?
We all need water to live and keep things clean.
So let’s stand and greet this storm with open arms
And who knows, after that, how the air will seem?
I’m not totally satisfied with that final line, but it’ll have to do. I’ll probably change it…I just don’t know how, yet.
I don’t know about other places, but the smell of the rain in Colorado is a really wonderful smell- clean, and fresh, and amazing. After a stuffy, awful day, smelling an afternoon storm blow in is a very literal breath of fresh air. If only a breath like that were as predictable for the rest of life. *shrug* But I suppose that is partly why we treasure those uncertain breaths so much.
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