Cri de coer

It's been so long since the rain came. I wonder  
if I still know what it sounds like. And the thunder,  
hammering the sky, heartbeat of monsters and Gods.  
It leaves the quiet behind, as if it never existed.  
 
A storm holds so much sorrow.  
Like ardent souls, the desperate ebb and flow,  
crashing into mountains and bruising a navre sky  
where sylphs weep. My heart weeps there, too.  
 
He remarks that I am part of the storm;  
I am lush in the romance of it.  
The billowing winds, the rain, the voice of drum,  
are like a rapturous, criminal lover  -  
I have no desire to hide.  
 
Adorned in silken widow's weeds,  
I know that you must go, but in the heart of the storm  
I cry the rain.  
 
 
(Artwork unknown)