There is a tension in the air that is beautiful
Electricity shoots through the sky
Grey and damp: the world in mourning
And thunder-bidden prophesies
roll on for all to know

The rainwater spins fiercely
off tires of cars on asphalt
And sometimes plumes against nature rise
While thunder mutters in impatience
And rain falls

And falls, and falls
With enough vigor to clink on the windowpane
And turn the puddles white
with the air-made froth of ocean waves
And a faint flicker on ground level warns

The day is ours to do with as we please!
We shall cry, mourn, then smash all
until we are calm. To-day belongs
to us: to the water and wind, to the fire and
earth, to that which made you!

Like fog through the windows
The rain falls cold and the headlights
of passing cars shine hazily through it
Water runs down the curves of trees
and early blooming flowers

The mystery found in this day
belongs not to science or weathermen
The mystery can never leave
So whispers a rolling thundercloud
And I believe.