The rumble of heaven shakes the granite ceiling,
Not so much in fury, but a slow agony, swelling, trembling,
Threathning to break free and burst forth on to the world.
The air is thick,heavy, suffocating
And all that move beneath do so hurriedly, in dreaded anticipation
The world grows quiet, almost still, like a drawing in of breath
Before the slow weeping begins.
But not all tears are that of pain, and we two, did laugh as others ran,
scurried away from the rain, seeking shelter.
What better shelter is there than the newness of love?
Arm in arm we walked, staggered; grinning faces turned heaven ward
Water streaked down our faces, dripped from hair and soaked clothes as we
reveled in its' coldness, laughing at our private joke
Bringing light to a gray world, as one day, it's memory would bring light to a gray life.

(c)Geeta Boodansingh 2012