I used to be apprehensive of storms;
I struggled to escape their wrath,
Running away with the rest of the frantic swarms.
It wasn’t until I head-on embraced them,
That I grew from their violent beads and drops.
I began to anticipate the heavy rain,
Sometimes even on the highest of rooftops,
Prepared to soak oceans into my brain.
You see, storms enclose two promises:
Its ability to wash away any and everything,
And its art of aiding one’s growth.
So, I chose.