In the spring, it rains.
The leftover cold of an empty winter
The pushing heat of a steamy summer
Fighting to gain your attention
Fighting to divert mine.
The quiet blanket of snow has melted
But the ground is still cold
Soaked in water, waiting to freeze
Happy to silently wait for night
When the sun sleeps.
But I am the sun.
I rise. I speak. I push up from the horizon
A blaze of fire
Intent on warming you
And melting you.
A cold front meets a warm front
And a storm brews.
Meteorology is a science of the heart
An art of dancing and beginning and ending.
Give and take is the way of spring
And a thunderous shaking of earth
Demands a decision.