I am entranced with the solace offered by the storm
And I spear myself from the distance, a dance of thrust
Through the weather of withered wilt
Tracing the lightning lines with my fingers
And bridging the rays of the horizon with my hands
A thunderclap, a thunderstruck, a turnaround
Lucidity of the blurry haze of the hurricane
Winds woosh-woosh my worries to the clasps of the clouds
Closer and closer. They elevated me.
Fumes of rain riddling the strands of my hair
Subtle sloshing, unearthing and unlatching the doors of the soil
Storm lulls off and reverberates through walls of the garden-gloom
