After the Storm

Summer evening

With rain clouds clinging to the wide expanse at the top of the sky,

Even while sunset falls thick and cheerful as the crickets in the meadow,

Orangepink streaming through the emerald trees

Heavy with full leafed boughs.

I'm driving northbound,
Homeward with the windows down and a sad song on my radio

Curving through the ancient forests,

Not even tamed by the first settlers,

Left untouched, you can still find arrow heads in the streams.

The clouds above are dark, and menacing,

Threatening to burst at any moment,

Yet completely out of place in this pleasant summer evening.

The golden light of clarity encircles the horizon,

Stillness enters my being, and a smile across my lips.

At the top of the next hill, sheets of rain pour straight down from the clouds above,

Cold and heavy, I hear them pelt my little open car,

I feel the splashes on my suntanned arms,

Little daggers fall through the sunroof and jostle my hair,

But it doesn't pool.

I don't close the windows.

I don't shut the sunroof.

The rain is so fast and so hard,

I seem to drive right through it.

The sun does not blink in it's descent.

I remain vulnerable and yet unmarred.

I turn up the stereo.

I am not even damp.

The outside of the car is washed clean,

But the door insides are dry.

My hair is blown by the cool breeze that comes

in the clear blue north of the storm.

The temperate air up here is pure bliss.

My face is dewy, but streakless.

I am cleansed.

The clouds above have an ending.

I see it, now

for the first time in months.

My smile deepens.

This too shall pass.

Jennifer D. Behnke

July 30, 2015  - 12:49am