More than the downpour of warm rain bouncing
in its own puddles, more than the mossy drip
from windowsills' corners, it's the presence
of the stormy air that draws me out. Amidst all
the stutters of wind and water, people walk
through the landscape aware of every
dip and cut. Present, pressing, the storm
seems to say, I'm Here. It's Okay. It doesn't
matter if we are doomed or not, whispers
a temporary creek, what matters is to ease
suffering while we're here.
after Ada Limón and Jeffrey Shade
for and via Ambika