A Sonnet

Come find me when the tempests lower down,

And shake the heavens dry with bolt and crack.

When heaving earth and lashing wind will frown

On all we were afraid to wrestle back.

Come touch me when the blackened gale flies by,

And care not for the roughness or the pain.

Ignore the stormy, melancholy cry

And drown my stuttered breathing once again.

Come see me when the sky's staccato burst

Has blinded you and I to all beside

This searing, unapologetic thirst.

How helplessly we rail against the tide!

Come crush me when the fear is wrung to naught

And we are free to claim what our souls sought.