The rain pours in Honolulu
And wakes me in the night.
The sound of a million raindrops
Pelting the window of the room
Is almost unfamiliar to me,
The desert girl, in its ferocity.
Yes, there is rain at home, the
Kind that knocks softly against
Walls and lulls you to sleep.
And sure, there are thunderstorms
That rumble overhead, a comfort
In its release of moisture in the summer.
But rain in Honolulu is different.
The rain there is loud and unforgiving,
sweeping the world outside away until
there is nothing left, only to rebuild
Everything again before the sunrise.
It is a rain that tears apart and recreates
Over and over again, leaving not one
Trace of there ever being anything before.
It is incredible, it is awe inspiring, it is
A rebirth that I wish was granted to the
Dying landscape I return to.