I am wrestling my umbrella
blown furiously by the roaring rain
covering the vast whole scene
like distant noise on a television screen.
And my mind wanders
to the angered, protesting peoples,
roaring like the rain,
again and again, driven to the rim
by the systematic oppression
of institutions at their whim.

The rain makes waves on the ground.
Pulsing, to the pulsing wind,
to the beats of ardent chants,
funneled into my brain —
an overwhelming frenzied calm
in this stormy freedom rain.