Awaiting Relief

Sullen, steaming, stifling, just one of
those days the weatherman is loathe
to take responsibility for, which nature
speedily takes ownership of, seeming to
boast: Think this is hot? Wait for tomorrow,
and we do, we do, but of course hardly with
bated breath, albeit breathlessly. An
intolerable succession of heat-struck days
has left us anxious for weather relief.

Whereas those reporting atmospheric
conditions merely note, nature has an
assortment of teasing, tantalizing,
tormenting tricks at her disposal.
Chief among them, the imposition of
accelerated change. Seeking the comfort
of deep-forest shade by a cooling breeze-
rippled brook, the wooded canopy our
shelter from the wickedly searing sun,
we suddenly become vulnerable.

That gentle breeze at her behest
transforms monstrously to a ferocious
wind bending the masts of tall trees,
cracking off dry-heated limbs, ushering
in an instant deluge of large and
piercing rain drops assembled as a flood
from the suddenly-dark-ocean of the
sky, deluging the utterly deluded.