These clouds that speak of something ominous
I wonder when they shall shower upon me
When its cold drops shall touch my face
Rolling down my cheeks,
Resting then on a dry earth.
Tumultuous the rains are, yet all remain still
The leaves do not droop with dew
The ground is still hard
The breaths of air are still lifeless
I wait for them to shower
Splatter, so that all may feel the cold and the warmth.
Shower that all may Change…
Yet they move above me,
Both hope and despair imparting.
They speak of a change, a new uprising
Their thunder is loud, but echoes do not remain.
It rains for days,
Yet none feel the drizzle.
Still many wait, to catch the first drop,
Of those Showers that offer Change…
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