Soft Rains

Leaves turn,
Warning us with veined bellies
Of a coming storm.
Gentle winds
Tousle our hair
Leaving the impression
Of disarray,
Disappointment,
Devastation.
.                                                        

Unprepared,
We hide away
In cars,
Homes,
bedrooms.
We take shelter
Within ourselves-
Within our own mind
Among our own kind.


Fearfully,
We brace ourselves,
Secure doors and windows,
Hearts and minds.
We startle at each unfamiliar
Sound,

Sight,
Or suggestion.

And the leaves turn.
Gentle breezes subside.
Soft rains cease.
The earth is cleansed.
There was never any reason to fear.


Stephanie De los Santos
1/7/16