Raining Poem by shimon weinroth

flaring lights flashed,
electrified the sky,
the breathing air stilled,
paused a Damocles sword.

deep eiree silence poised
the heavens growled,
as a rollng thunder rumbled,
growing boomed and clapped,

filled the air with supersonic
till the crescendo spent itself
the rains came pitter pattering,
spattering drops thick dropped rain,

pit patted the roof and windows
turned to beating urgent,
played its forceful tune till my turtle-head
withdrew into its sweater,

shrunk to ward off the cold and wet outside
warmed by the hearth the dog and cat
came to nest nearby, stopped orbiting, fidgeting
curled up looking for solace

surrounded by warming devices heavy clothing
secured by the illusion, protected from the outside
forces of nature, we would survive so ordinary
a heaven sent message

how will it be, when scuds, patriots and rockets
come whizzing screaming overhead,
when atomic or biological war-heads
to wreak a man-made frenzy and hate

more dangerous than any heavenly calamity
man in his arrogance asserted free will
more destructive
than any god made omen

outside its raining still