Thursday, June 5, 2008

Enjoying the storm

I want the Earth to talk to me,
to listen to its call,
to hear its winds awhispery,
even a stormy squall.

I'm glad for weather's vibrancy,
a living Earth for me,
no more the quiet sight
of rainless day and windless night.

The past few nights we've had rain, and thunder, and lightning. Our bully black cat, Jeda, curls up on our bed in the throes of it, raowing his concern. This morning, a tornado watch and flood advisory were issued for the area... take shelter inside, move away from windows.

The Earth speaks to me again. I hadn't realized quite how much I missed her capricious ways. In Southern California the weather is mostly predictably boring. I'm sure many of you will think me odd; who wouldn't want the regularity of sunshine? But there is something charming and delightful, something worldly, gritty, real about weeds cropping up where wind or bird dropped their seeds, rather than only where irrigation nourishes. Fickle rains for me!


Lilian said...

I totally agree, and I have a slightly similar poem, about the silent and trademark drizzle of the city of São Paulo. Here it is (one of two poems I've posted in my blog).

ArticulateDad said...

What a lovely poem, Lilian. I had to read it in Portuguese to get a feel for its flow (though I understand hardly a word, and can't be assured my accent does the tongue much justice). You shouldn't be so apologetic about your writing. Looking back at mine again, it seems a mere doggerel to yours.