Downpour

Downpour. Loud and heavy the rain pounded the roof last night. A thousand hammers beating on tin. A percussive symphony. Cacophony. And with it the light show: bright white fireworks accompanied by thunder’s drum roll.

And it poured until the clouds were exhausted. Like an angry man, they can only vent so much.

And now it is still. Nothing moves in the aftermath. Like the object of an angry man’s abuse, recovering from such as assault takes time. A tentative chirp in the distance, the slight wave of a dandelion, mark the start of said recovery as the water stops flowing and starts seeping. Life blood.

Persistent, life is.