I'll Be There

The muted sounds of silence
Are broken,
By the thunder of reality.
Reaching through the storming rain,
Drenched in the wet chilled soaking,
Reaching with my hands out,
With palms raised upward,
Watching the eddies of water form in them,
The water mingling with tears,
I cry unto the forsaken wind,
"I'll be here in the swirls of wind and water."
Pelting upon my head,
Flooding me with sight,
But...
No touch.
Look upon the horizon of southeast border.
Hear the cry of the screaming wind.
As the spectre, haunting railing of a night storm,
Shrieks in agony,
Impaling the truth upon a lightning bolt.
Until finally...
With a pale, washed morning coming,
My heart once again beats gently,
Knowing that something was seen,
Something forever was left...
When the hurdling wind left a softer voice saying,
"I'll be there."