A far-off rumbling, drums in the distance,
Thunder echoing across an expanse of plain,
The celestial, primitive sound of wind chimes
Whistling breeze encircles me.

Attention pricked, head pressed upon dirt,
listening to the vibrations of the storm,
Drops of sky pat down the dirt and grass,
Darkness on the horizon moving toward me.

The angels of heaven covet to stand here,
the opportunity for vigilant words,
glowing upon a way previously invisible,
Lighting the paths to hopeful destinations.

Great sunsets conclude fierce storms,
Rays painting exhausted clouds,
Desert skyline above purple earth,
Monsoon voices echo from the past.

Chest heaving, palms sweaty,
Exhausted yet exhilarated, new lore for telling,
Fingers interlocked, side by side,
We walk together homeward.


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