before the storm

the air is thick as i wipe the
sweat from my brow and
gasp in the heat of a long
day finding no solace in
warm breezes moving the
moisture around with no
relief but in the sky the
clouds are billowing and
the promise of rain comes
like a whisper in the hot
dying day and i lean in to
the distant rumble of new
thunder growing as the
wind begins to cool and
perspiration becomes
precipitation with the
coming of evening and
night's rest when in the
midst of lashing streams
i will find relief and rest
as the air clears and the
earth drinks in hope for
something new how
wonderful to find the
night's tempestuous
thrashing has shaken
the world right and i
can again breathe deep
while the weeping has
endured the night in
the morning comes joy