Clouds accumulating above, threatening a storm, turning
black and gray, rain being held at bay so far, sun is
hidden behind them.
Not being allowed to show it's face or give us warmth
right now, breeze blowing gently so far, but knowing
soon it will be gusting and causing microbursts.
Watching and thinking, wondering when it will happen,
spontaneous and sudden, it will apparently come in it's
own time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem