These skies are ominous
Clouds full to burst
Overripe with rain
A deluge ready to fall
Onto the cold, hard ground
Desperate for a baptism
For a chance to come clean
The downpour arrives
Steady and persistent
Like this headache
Straining for days
Against my skull
Looking for an escape
Fighting for relevance
Conscious of this sin
That moves, serpentine
Waiting for a break
A seismic shift in the sky
As I stand naked beneath
Hands outstretched in prayer
In acceptance of these faults
All too commonplace
As this water pounds down
Eyes closed to soak it in
Fingers reaching out
To touch the hand of god

Or a reasonable facsimile.


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