The Storm

I look up expecting the unpainted sky,
A light shade of blue.
The weather man said nothing,
Of the storm, even if he knew.

I am met with a sight so brilliant,
That I quickly avert my eyes.
Who can stare into the abyss,
Of the dark and stormy skies?

With the hypnotizing blue-gray clouds,
Come the threatening storm.
Yet rather than feeling unsafe,
I wish it'd become part of the norm.

As days pass the storm keeps looming,
Frequently flashing lightning.
A light so bright and unsettling,
That it can't really be frightening.

It's presence leaves me addled,
The wait makes me insane.
Will the storm keep looming or resolve in downpour
Will I learn to dance in the rain?

~ @a9enba9
(1 June 2019)