Stormy Nights

Nearly 80 degrees at 10pm
And the sky begins to dance

It’s beating a distant drum
Not bothering to keep rhythm
Its cadence not restricted by the concept of time 

Rolling for minutes on end

I stare out my window
Knowing that I should be trying to sleep 
Taking in flashes that blind me
I blink away the remnants
And I can’t help but think about...

How the lightning reveals every crack in the sky
And how I hope that I never get used to it 

And how I see the high winds bullying the trees
But notice that the one closest to my apartment is strong and steady 
And that he must have been here a while
So then I know that everything will be okay
And how I refer to plants and animals with male pronouns 
And that I must somehow find comfort in that

And how I hate the lights on the buildings
Casting reflections in the glass of my windows
Obstructing my view of the beauty before me
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And I see all of the people on the street driving
And I consider that this probably isn’t special
And how my coworkers or acquaintances may laugh at my sense of wonder 

And then I hope that I never get used to it

God I hope I never get used to it