The Weather Makers

The Weathermakers

We are the Weathermakers - 
Mr. and Mrs. .
You stepped this way
and I stepped that.

Your step started clouds
collecting a condensation of tears,
turning into bloated effigies
forming battalions pressing overhead, over heart.
Scorn, jagged and white hot,
jumps out from your dark disposition.
Suddenly, love is shattered,
blazing and smoldering.

My step started a drought,
collecting cracks in once-loamy soil,
turning into deep gaps,
forming a mosaic of distance under foot, underhanded.
Indifference, jagged and shadowy cool,
spreads out from my dry disposition. 
Soon, love is shriveled,
stagnant and evaporating.

We seldom recall stepping this way or that,
both left wondering
where the thunderstorm or drought came from, 
or why it came to this (or that). 
Way back, years ago, or only yesterday, we stumbled,
began pushing or moving away. 
Magnetic fields formed moist or dry air;
we worked the weather, 
whether we knew it or not.  

So, why don’t we use this or that power to step together,
form a gentle rain on a dusty path
we settle down softly?
Let’s hold hands and stroll home,
welcoming the sight of our front door,
where we’ll step onto a plush mat
that reads “The Weathermakers”. 


copyright 2005 Darrell Moneyhon