This was not the poem I was trying to write but it stormed in and drowned all other thoughts out of my mind. So here I am, watching the snowfall, writing about the weather, and falling in love – with life, the process, myself, the cold, and ultimately you.
Weather
Have you ever noticed the way people speak of the weather like it’s the last resort?
If all else fails, at a loss for words, look out the window,
and when your gaze returns provide an opinionated report.
I hate to talk about it, but I love the weather.
My problem is in the way everyone tones down the meaning.
The weather is extreme –
arguably one of my favorite parts about it.
It’s the part I relate to the absolute most.
Don’t call it nice.
No, it is not too anything out.
You see, I like it when the snow melts the moment it kisses my cheek.
It kind of reminds me of the way a puddle forms every time your lips touch me.
Baby, I think it is so hot
when the sun has been focused on the same spot
for just a moment too long.
Sometimes my body begins to shake.
It’s a clear sign that the sensation is just on the verge of being too much
but I’m waiting for the moment I just can’t take it any longer.
I have this weakness for hail and the way it reminds me that sometimes,
the conditions will harden you
and even the warmth will take a while to soften you again.
I’ve been spending a lot of time searching for the warmth.
It started the moment I realized I was becoming rigid as I froze
and could hurt someone with my fall
rather than gracefully riding the breeze
before landing with care, delicate and unique.
I’m grateful for the way the rain sweeps in
and washes out the old while giving life to the new.
Have you ever cried hard enough that afterward, you feel empty?
I thought empty was the worst way to be
until I saw that what was cleared out by tears
left room for love to flow in – talk about potential for growth.
The rain is just the sky crying, facilitating growth.
I hate to talk about it, but I love the weather.
I’ve just never loved hearing about the weather
as much as I do when it’s coming from you
with wishes for enjoyment, adventure, or safety.
I’ve never heard someone talk about the weather
like they’re professing their love.
My love, I love your love, and I absolutely love the weather.
Much love, until next time.
Madeline May I... 