After the Rain

All is calm and quiet,
the air fresh, clean.

It starts with gentle
stirrings of wind
like the tops of fingernails
brushed against a cheek.

Then more vigorous gusts
shaking trees, banging 
blinds against windowsills

The first cracks of lightning appear 
in the distance. The storm grows closer, larger,
darker, like the pupils of a lover's eyes

Seething clouds slip over the Earth,
rain falls, the sound grows to a roar 
becoming the rush, the roar of a train 
only a few feet from the tracks.

Simultaneously it frightens and attracts you 
making you want to cover your head 
or to join it, to immerse yourself in it, to run
into the turmoil, tempting the fates 
and becoming part of it.

It builds -- stronger, faster like lovers
wrestling. Just when you think it can't 
possibly be more intense a blast of thunder 
shakes the Earth on which you stand, 
shuddering its release, leaving silence in its wake. 

A calmer rain continues, then lessens,
and slips into the distance 
leaving the Earth cleansed, satisfied 
and longing for more.


Kenny A. Chaffin - 6/22/02