M. M. Chenault
if people understand
why we compare ourselves
to thunderstorms.
Summer storms,
hot and drenching,
all consuming,
are passion embodied.
They are romance,
sadness, anger, relief.
They are humanity
in a crowd of clouds
and a rumbling roar.
When I am beneath
a storm it allows me to
be still and let that humanity
wash over me in torrents
of sound and light,
like seeing a city from below.
Every storm I’ve ever seen
has shown me something new,
something frightening
and hopeful,
something of what life is.”