Composed 4/8/15
Description: For Day 8 of NaPoWriMo. Interestingly, this is also my 200th poem! Wow! I never thought when I started this blog that it would inspire SO MUCH writing, but it really has! Hope you enjoy this special milestone poem, which, unsurprisingly, prominently features rain. (You know what I’m talking about, Midwest!) Seriously, though, I love the rain, especially because… well, you’ll see.
You may deny it with your dying breath
But you have heard God’s voice
He commands with every thunderclap
An authority that silences, humbles, and awes
He is the pitter-patter of rain on the windowsill
That comforts and lulls
The wind that howls and whispers
To refresh or to chill
How can you not believe?
When faced with nature’s power
For life
For death
How can you not feel small?
In someplace you know
He’s the center
The voice of it all
Scraps of Paper 