I Can't Fall Asleep
2 A.M. and I slip on my rain boots,
look outside my bedroom door,
seeking an adventure in the raindrops outside.
I creep slowly to and fro, crouching
low I go on tip-toes and gingerly step
across the tiled floor.
My rubber boots squeak and slosh
against the raindrops on
the sweetly laquered sidewalk.
The lightning now plays
across the sky like preschoolers
playing tag on warm spring afternoons.
Crushing daisies with their Velcro shoes,
They innocently croon and giggle.
Thunder rolls like boulders bouncing
down a slowly sloping hill
while flattening Jack &
Jill, who just went to fetch a pail of water.
The wind blows strong, whispering
secrets. The untold lives of neighbors
are told during thunderstorms when people
turn their lights on. Thin shades reveal a lot about
a person's late night disposition.
So nature fools around across the sky,
tenderly touching the earth with
twenty thousand degrees of vaporizing heat.
A symphony of raindrops, symbols
chiming in the dark. Thunder drums,
low rumbles after each blast of lightning,
becomes the final clash of all the symphony
against the midnight sky.
Sounds reverberate, so loud, and in the noise I
fall asleep, to the sounds of nature's notes.