Roots

I want to lay awake outside
naked
in the rain.

Let the cool ticks of water
occupy my brain.

Something strange within me
stirs
deep in the psyche.

A question of unending trust;
a shimmer in a dream.

A brisk and cleansing rush
consumes
that which would impose.

Interpretation is the flaw
shrouding lovers' prose.

A strike of light illuminates
exposes
what's unknown.

Thunder crashes in the heart
a hollow, empty drum.

A storm cannot awaken
longing
of something gone unmissed.

Roots must first be firmly placed
to benefit this tryst.