Locking the doors

Locking the doors at night
I heard the rumble of rain drops drumming the dark roof.
Grabbing the umbrella
I opened the door.

Black wet night shook like a dog on the doorstep.
The rain teemed down from the infinite darkness.
A click.... the brolly blossomed open,
green, nylon jellyfish launching
into the ocean of air.

Rain pounded on the tight skin
and darkened the fabric with a thousand spots.
Fat, shining water globes dangled from the edges,
turning the lamp-posts upside down.

I walked down the garden,
Grass and soil soft beneath me;
even the cold air soft with the steam of exploding rain.

In the greenhouse I shone a bright torch beam,
up and out through the rain-rippled glass
into the underbelly of the cloud.

And, oh, how my heart leapt to see the rain transfigured,
to see the meteoric streams of light -
silver flashes streaking from a radiant so distant
that torchlight turned to black.

For a fearful moment I glimpsed immensity -
a sheer relentlessness of rain;
a beast much bigger than my comprehension.

I began to understand
how big a billion is, and shivered awestruck,
at the presence passing
overhead.

(c) A Mc N