Booming and ominous it rolls,
Like a forbidding elder wrapped
In a harsh, grey cloak.
I look out my window to the rain
And long to be outside.
Out where my blood pumps
In time with the patter of the rain.
Out where the wind tears through
What’s left of my body.
Out where, for a single moment,
I’ll fly and stand and swim
And simply be, just for a moment,
I will be the thunder.