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.