I am waiting for the first thunderstorm of the season.
Watching out my dorm room window,
Wondering if this group of black clouds will bring
The dazzling light and sound show
That is nature.

I am waiting for the scent of damp mud and earth.
The memories of a childhood long gone.
Memories of barefooted children
Running and shrieking
To their own version of a rain dance.

Twirling and spinning,
Arms out stretched, faces upturned
To welcome the gentle rain that makes all life grow.

I am waiting for the sirens that herald the arrival of destruction.
Knowing I will never in a million years
Make all seven flights of steps
Necessary for my survival.
Knowing only a miracle will save me.

I am waiting for the sweet sound of birds trilling.
Calling to each other
To say they have weathered another storm.
Checking to see if their kin had survived.
The way my kin check on me and mine.

I am waiting for the rainbow that follows all storms.
Scurrying outside
Rain soaking my jacket
Trying to remember which way to turn
Is it toward or away from the sun?
To see the multicolored wonder
That God promised to his Children.

I am waiting for the rain.