Summer Storm

Thunder growls in the distance
as timid rain clouds
let loose sporadic showers,
testing the air
for the turbulent monsoon
to come.

The sound of Liam babbling
flows gently from the speakers
of our baby monitor, joining the
thoughtful, decisive clicks of Alex’s keyboard
coming from the other room.

James, Gigi, and Gpa call
from a few blocks away,
saying a quick goodnight
before James is off to bed;
his bright, sly smile fills every inch
of the telephone screen
as the video feed connects,
effortlessly inspiring a like response
from Alex and me.

After the call, with both boys asleep,
Alex and I shuffle outside to the back porch
just as the sky tears open
under the weight of its immeasurable cargo;
oceans of rain and mountains of hail
rush toward the ground,
refreshing a dry and wanting earth,
forming tiny, raging rivers
in the many small valleys
adorning our yard.

We sit and read, listen and write,
speaking quietly and sparingly
so as not to disturb the symphony of the rain,
surrendering our hearts and minds
to the force and magnificence
of the passing summer storm.