The weapons of Thor, or so they say
Hurled at his foes in Jotunheim
But we’re not trolls, so why should we suffer?
They can kill you
End your life in a brilliant flash
An electric shock, magnified to an amazing degree
The bearers of light are bearers of death
I must run away
Run for shelter, run in terror
Run before one strikes me down
Strikes me down dead
I think it’s some sort of cloud boycott
The rain gods have forsaken this land
And they refuse to tell us why
Do they have something unpleasant planned?
Rain birds refuse to grace this place
We see no trace of their mythical race
And the sheepskin belonging to Zeus
Doesn’t seem to be getting its share of use
Yes, it must be a cloud boycott
Even the thunder and lightning have gone
There are no storms, not even showers
And there’s hardly any green in the lawn
The gardens are dry
The fields are dry
The rivers are dry
The lakes are dry
Dry, dry, everything’s dry
Maybe we need some kind of dance
Will the clouds then give this place a chance?
There could be an end to the drought
If the clouds would come back, letting their burdens out
We need an end to the cloud boycott
Some relief from the light and the heat
Bring some moisture back to the land
And let farmers grow their corn and wheat
Please call off this cloud boycott
You fall
Down to the ground, then back on your feet
Only to fall down on the ground again
Losing your breath, breaking your bones
Travel is a chore when there’s ice around
And is it really worth it
To navigate on the ice?
I hate ice
Whether frozen on the ground or in the sky
On the sidewalk or in the street
On the grass or on the lake
I don’t want to walk on the ice
I don’t want to ride on the ice
I don’t want to slide on the ice
I don’t want to fall on the ice
I don’t want any more ice
It’s the wind
Producing glee or panic
Propelling ships, or turning mills
Spinning ‘round and causing ills
From zephyrs to hurricanes
From tornadoes to breezes
Its forms are many; its effects can help or hurt
It can be gentle; it can be wild
It can fill you with life, or it can lead to your death
The temperature changes are bad for my health
My body can’t adjust; it needs some consistency
This incessant switching back and forth
From hot to cold, from cold to hot
From snow to rain, from sun to sleet
Can only do harm to my poor body
Why can’t the weather just make up its mind?
Why the constant fluctuations?
I want some consistency
Not this state of uncertainty
About the weather
It’s a mixture of pleasure and pain
When I’m out in the snow
There’s the beauty of seeing the fields
In their shiny new clothes
But there’s also the horrible cold
Chilling my body, making me feel
That I want to get inside
Away from the horrible cold
That comes with
Snow, the pleasure of children
But pain if you’re in it for long
After the rain has gone,
The sun returns to rule
Shining his warming rays over his dominions
Filling his kingdom with light
After the rain has gone
After the clouds have left
There’s a sense of new beginnings
Of a world coming back to life
After sleeping in their shelters,
People come back to the streets
Their lethargy is at an end
It’s time to become active again
They rise out of their beds
And enter the outside world
The branches shed their wetness
The birds return to sing
There’s a sense of new life
Of a new world arriving
After the rain has gone
How I long to see
Jack Frost roasting on an open fire
The frost melting in a wonderful thaw
The end of the winter
The blossoming of spring
Yet winter will continue
Bringing ice and snow
And sleet, and frozen faces
And cold fingers and toes
Feeling so numb, like they don’t want to move
Yet my whole body must keep moving
In order to reach shelter from the paralyzing cold
That has conquered the land
And will continue its cruel rule
Until the coming of the savior, Spring
I might like to see them
More often than I do
But I sleep right through them
So I cannot feel
The glory of early morning
When the world starts to rise
Out of its nighttime slumber
In the mists of early morning
The mind is not yet clear
Like the day itself,
The mind is shrouded in mists
That come with coming out of bed
And trying to return the mind to consciousness
And entering the world, filled as it is
With the mists of early morning
In the rain forests, it rains all the time
That is how they got their name
In California, they have earthquakes
Causing the land to split and shake
The weather is never perfect
No matter where you might live
The people are always complaining
It never seems to be good enough
I guess I’ve gotten used to the weather ‘round here
Although I might criticize it
It could always be better, but at least it’s familiar
And maybe that’s all we can ask