I was born
in the thunder
birthed
to the whip
of the wind
my father was known
as the weather
a cloud
was my mother
the womb
and I would ride
-saddled-
the storm
bucking the blitz strikes
of lightning
raining on earth
down below
I am cumulus
I am cirrus
I am the feather
contrail
of the sky
and I laugh
at the fury of tempest
because I
was the child
of wild weather
and I
dance the cyclone
that spins
I know the name
of each raindrop
and I kiss
each one
as it falls
I wait
patient
until it rises again
in mist
as a ghost
as my friend
I am the child
of wild weather
in the weird light
in a deep voice
I sing
~