Heavenly Forces

I appreciate the rain - it's a welcome break for me, the soil and my new tomato vines! And this summer storm is pretty neat ... but not when it keeps going for days on end. I started writing this poem during a winter in Palmerston North, when I hadn't seen blue skies for about a month. Hooray for the Bay of Plenty climate.

~

Another rainy day.
Angry drops hurling themselves at my window,
this translucent barrier, shielding me from the fury outside
splattering like spurts of clear blood
empty yet lukewarm,
enraged they cannot enter my room
then spent of force, they stream to my window frame
leaking down to puddles for the damp earth to drink
insatiable thirst, absorbing until sponge-soaked.

I look up
to where some invisible hand has split the brooding grey
and formed a chasm through which I see blue
I want to rocket up and through, before the sky-cliffs close again
and I'm trapped under the malevolent ceiling of cloud.

The wind rattles my door
and watery tentacles extend through gap between door and floor
staining a warning on my doorstop.
Another day and my refuge may be breached
unless the heavenly forces of good win their war
and force away the marauding enemy
with blasts of solar energy.

I try to ignore the opaque light casting no shadows
on my walls gradually fading to dark
and dream of better days
days when the sun still shone, the sky was blue
and skin was warmed by early morning rays
when yells of laughter echoed across green fields
and life radiated from our limbs as we danced.

But for now my veins drain phlem
from moistened lungs to atrophied brains.
Sunken eyes staring upwards
past the rat-tat-tat of rain-fire
past the ugly grey stormers
bashed about by furious northeasterly winds
hoping to once again catch a glimpse
of some blue sky.

~