Some storms blow without warnings.
Not even a muffled thunder
or an introductory lightning streak.
They cheat radars and land straight
in the heart
on a day when it is out defenseless.
Memories thunder around
and voices blindingly flash,
and paper-thin shutters of the heart
and rip in the rising wind.
The storm has to pass;
to bow and not to resist
is the only way out.
If you love cotton candy clouds
and fragrant rain,
Learn also not to hate storms
that blow without warnings.