A Storm Brews

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
What will become of us?

Submitted: March 04, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 04, 2008



The rain beats down upon my window seal,

Following the dance within me.

The dance no longer,

Life and death, for they are past;

But now, passion and longing.


The rain is an instrument of my body,

As the wind whispers in my ear,

“It takes two…where is he?”


I look about…

No one is to be found.

But looking within the clouds,

There among the stars,

Two images start to form,

As the rain covers them,

In blankets of warmth.


Their bodies feed, off one another’s pleasure, forming a ring of stars.

The wind whispers to me again, “This is what you dream of.

The love for him grows within the mind and soul;

One day, it will quietly leave.”


I look within the clouds again,

The wind has blown away the images,

The rain doesn’t beat,

All has died away.


“Show me more,” I beg,

But nothing stirs,

And the rain doesn’t make a sound.

© Copyright 2018 Aisha. All rights reserved.

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