If the Sky Speaks of Anything by Amanda Arbuckle

If the sky speaks of anything 
It speaks of rain 
An anxious whispering of the wind 
The dark clouded brow of sky 
A chance raindrop before its time 
Surely, these are auguries if anything is. 

Thunder reverberates overhead 
Through the backyard 
Through my soul 
My actions are a tumult of hurry 
Feed the dogs 
Bring them in 
Stow the lawn chair cushions inside a weather-proof bin 
Watch for the wind 
Preparations before the rain. 

I did not know for sure it would rain 
It was a guess, a conjecture 
Instinct told me more than the weatherman could 
And when it came, there was no mistaking it 
That glorious onslaught against the window panes 
Rain like the patter of children's feet 
Like soldiers' drums 
Like lovers' voices, rising and falling through the dark. 
Thunder like a parent's voice, low and reproving 
Welcoming even if it heralded lightening. 

I was glad. 
Sometimes, there is something oddly comforting in a storm 
But then again, I watched from the inside, not from within the torrent 
Perhaps it is no different than letting yourself fall into a reverie 
Letting it take full control 
Castles crumble to dust 
And are rebuilt in a day 
Dragons are faced 
Villains confronted 
Friends lost and gained 
And even a thunderstorm can be braved. 

Imagination, such a fascinating place to visit 
I wouldn't live there though 
I'd never completely abandon this world for that other 
Or venture out now into that storm 

What storm? 
Gone. 
As brief as a memory of a dream 
Bells from the neighboring church 
Fill the newfound silence 
The sun glistens on newly bedecked leaves 
Strung with raindrops as with pearl necklaces. 

When it is my time to leave the world behind 
I want to exit as this rain has 
Quietly 
Leaving splendor and beauty behind 
Perhaps regretfully 
But knowing each thing has its place and time. 

Sun and rain cannot exist long together 
One must acquiesce, eventually 
They are not enemies though 
Rivals perhaps 
But there is no bitterness between them 
The sun and rain are perhaps not so unlike life and death 
Life submits to death 
Death gives way to life 
Can there be life without death 
Or death without life? 
Can one truly live if one never dies? 

Though it's sunny here 
It's raining somewhere 
And the sun speaks promises of another life