And the Rains Swept it Away

Black-indigo swept the sky last night. The ocean hissed and gently swelled and my eyes ravaged the dark horizon, waiting. It came then, searing the night with electric blue veins. Flickers of clouds turned on and off like they were attached to a cosmic chain. Click. On. Click. Off. Then the rumbling clap of thunder came rolling across the water into my ribcage. Standing on the bluff I shuddered slightly as the wind crept in, colder and tinged with rain. It felt good to stand there, feet planted firmly on the ground, watching the storm brewing. Feeling it's pulse growing heavy and pregnant with rain and fire. The night breathed in and then let go, sending tiny tears on my upturned face. I waited for more, I begged silently to the sky for a sheet of rain to slap me then, but it didn't come until later. The waves sent little green fireflies into the shore where they broke, the phosphorescence barely visible. I slept under the sheet of rain then, listening to the roof humming with tapdancers, jumping at the sound of thunder like a tree was coming throught the roof at 4am. I won't be surfing today, due to the runoff. But that is fine. I haven't had a good old fashioned rainstorm in many years.