PULLING IN THE REINS
The first clue,
but a scent on the air.
Now, it all begins.
The first thrill of realization,
the clouds build.
There's a promise of;
a tumultuious storm.
A low distant rumble,
fills the silence.
Feelings also increase in;
realization of what's
to come building in the soul.
The clouds gather and build until;
heavens burden proves too much.
The first drops,
like a kiss upon the lips;
sprinkle down,
tracing a path upon my soul.
Soon, the sprinkles turn to showers;
engulfing me, consuming me.
Until, my feelings,
threaten to overflow.
Craving to burst forth,
to find wings;
so that my soul may fly.
Alas the heavens spent;
pull in the rains.
Slowly;
only sprinkles once again;
remain.
Realization that;
I stand alone.
Finding I've rushed too fast;
to embrace the storm.
Only to find;
you are only just smelling,
the coming rain.
Reluctantly;
I pull in the reins.
But,
hope prevails,
at the possibility of
a stormy season.
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