The air currents swirled

like water in the ocean,

swift and calming.


The air reminded me of fall,

though life blossomed like spring,

new and refreshing.


A garden green,

so filled with scents,

floral and crisp.


Far above, in skies so blue,

clouds tumbled with rain,

heavy yet light.


The new spattering of drops

sprinkled with announced vigor,

free and soaring.


The air pushed back at me,

wanting me to stay outside,

lively and beautiful.


I pushed back,

making it inside,

dry and warm.


The water coarsed down my window,

trying to reach me through the glass,

wanting and calling.


I stepped away,

and picked up a book,

old and familiar.


I tried to read,

but the rain echoed in my ears,

loud and persistent.


I looked out into the storm,

washing away the death of winter,

old and stale.


It pounded ever louder

as I got closer,

victorious and abounding.


I stepped into the rain,

letting it soak into my clothes,

cool and fair.


Letting it run through my hair,

with my face thrown to the sky,

huge and cascading.


The thunder roared over the land,

a lion declaring his claim,

powerful and commanding.


I took in the world,

with a glance to the heavens,

vast and exciting.


This was life,

this was beauty,

pure and deliberate.


This was life.


This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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