The Storm

A storm is brewing.
I hear the thunder coming
In the distance, approaching
Rapidly stretching across
The tempestuous sky, chasing
The sudden rain, pouring
It’s saturated way
Out of the heavens.

I yearn to be out there
Under the sky, drinking
Each drop of rain, tasting
Every last splash, feeling
The moisture close, seeping
Into my pores, filling
My hot heart, quenching
Each arid plane.