In a Field of Wheat at Dawn, I Saw You

Soft pattering on the roof,
A steady blanket of feather-light rain bathes my house.
The dark periwinkle color peeking in through the blinds;
It's safe.
  
Paws padding softly over to the window,
It's opened, and I let in a sweet-smelling breeze.
Tiny droplets fall on the bridge of my nose.
It's cool.
   
Thunder sounds in the distance,
Lightning rolls out from the heavens--a flash of brilliance.
The sky's growling makes me stumble back.
It's disorienting.
  
A flood of moss and mint in my room,
Swirling all around,
Like an ethereal merry-go-round.
It's beautiful.
  
Collapsing on the downy covers,
Sleep overtaking me, settling like a quilt over my mind,
I think I see God on the walls.
It's strange.

This poem is about: 
Me

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