Summer Rainstorm Thoughts

 The storm is an artist: the rainbow is its masterpiece." -Matshona Dhliwayo 

This week, storms were explosive. Although rain was predicted, darkening clouds became the indicator that sent me scrambling to pick up my decorative pillows. The rains continued. The knowledge that my plants were being watered was a blessing.  That night, I watched in surprise. The night storms were like a show in themselves. Sudden and strong lightning bolts jolted me. All sightings were mesmerizing. I wanted to write to describe what I saw so I took a photo of my flowers enjoying their soaking. They may not look like the rains were showering them but they were tossed around quite a bit. 

 Let the rain touch my soul.

Let the rain splash my flowers with cooling drops.

Let the rain sing me to sleep.

The rain makes puddles of hope in my garden.

The rain makes loud splashing sounds on the patio.

The rain meets lightning and strikes through cracks in the sky at night-

And I watch in fascination.

©CVarsalona, draft

The mentor text I used to create this poem is April Rain Song by Langston Hughes. There is a lovely short video shot by the NY Botanical Garden that can be accessed on You Tube.

🌦🌧☔

I continue to add poetic offerings to my Poetryliscious Padlet for another gallery af artistic expressions. Lester Laminack, children's author, was honored to join the gallery as in the past. I gratefully uploaded his inspirational image poem. Please add a poem or artistic inspiration to the padlet please do.

Today is Poetry Friday and Elisabeth Norton is our host at Unexpected Intersections. She shares an original poem written while challenging herself to break routine and change directions. Her site is alreading filling with offerings of poetic goodness.

March Musings 30: Dreary Day

Strange Occurrence

Crackle!
Boom!
Total Quiet!

You came through the gray clouds
 with a lion's roar
and the speed of a cheetah.
You jolted the sky,
and then, quietly left,
leaving the pelting rain
as your calling card.

Did you mean to announce
your entrance with forcefulness?

No, I was just playing a spring song
to spark a dreary day.

©Carol Varsalona, 2017

Only once before in my lifetime did this strange occurrence happen. I thought I had forgotten the incident but yesterday the drive in the rain to the hair stylist brought back a dreadful childhood memory. When I arrived at my destination, the talk of the day revolved around the booming noise in the sky. No lightening followed, just the rain and a darker sky were present. Everyone was truly amazed by what occurred.

I last experienced this strange phenomenon when I was five. It was an equally dark day so I remember being wearing a yellow raincoat and carrying an umbrella but the rain gear did not protect me from what happened after I was dropped off. 

As I made my way to the entrance of the basement classroom, huge, roaring cracks ripped through the sky. I was frightened. These strange noises were followed by bright bolts of lightning. I grabbed the handles on the massive soors but  they would not budge. I was locked out of my Kindergarten class. "How could this be?" Feelings of isolation and fear overcame me. I was alone and afraid under a sky that continued to grow darker. With each consecutive booming of thunder, I shouted louder and pounded harder on the doors. My eyes welled with tears. I was just a small child under a darkened sky filled with cracking sounds, lightning bolts, and teeming rain. I could not contain my fear and then, like an angel from the sky, the nun in full habit came to my rescue. I was so relieved to be inside that to this day, I don't remember anything other than total fear and wet clothing that chilled me to  the bone. Yesterday's deafening crackle brought back the heaviness of a five-year old's heart on a dreary, rainy, thunder-and-lightning type of morning.

This is my thirtieth posting in a series titled March Musings for Two Writing Teachers' March Slice of Life Story Challenge.