some storms demand you leave your door open
even when rain pelts into your house
threatening to buckle fancy wood floors
opposing the safety and security of wooden walls

some demand you
to feel a responsibility
to turn off all music
as if you would miss the message
they are trying to give

the storm is angry
it has held everything in
for hours, days, weeks, months even
how rude to not listen or to tune it out.
to not acknowledge it.

some storms turn lakes into oceans
turning blue to black
and gentle curves into choppy crested waves
defined skylines to areas of grey
they steal your horizon from you
confusing your view

the heavens roar
and pelt windows and material things
with pieces of trees and sheets of rain
young green pinecones
destroying my things
drowning my plants

i understand that you will not go unnoticed
you demand my attention
you are angry.

i understand i am small
so much smaller than you
defenseless against you
theres nowhere i can hide
no structure i can build
no toiling of mine you cannot undo
no thing you can not tear down
no possession you cannot destroy
by merely throwing your own creation against it.

you are the only safety
you prove easily
by not so subtly reminding
how disastrous you can be.
how loud
how terrifying
how awesome.
how beautiful

your thunderstorm
the lion of the sky
so distinctly mimicing
the magnificent beast’s roar
proving you are king of all
king of the heavens
and king on earth.