the storm is here
The storm is here.
The air conditioning is on.
I am in a climate-controlled structure,
staring out the window at
a climate uncontrolled.
Everything is passing through me silently.
The hum of the air conditioner
and the tapping of the rain drops
are simultaneously putting me
in a trance and drowning out any
sounds I happen to make.
The warm vapors that seep through the
cracks around the door are absorbed
by the heavier, cooler air that blankets the floor.
Beyond that, nothing moves or shows any sign
of life, besides the rain, which occasionally
stops and starts again.
There is no time now,
except the whole of the storm,
as if it were all one moment.
When I begin to think that a tenth of a second
has passed since the last raindrop fell,
another one falls, and I am
back at no time again.
The thunder and lightening are
powerful and evoke many different emotions,
so that my mind is satisfied
by merely observing.
The storm is here.
The air conditioning is on.
Everything is passing through me now,
so silently.
~
1998