Rain in August

Set me adrift downstream of my deepest thoughts.

Let the eddies and currents
jostle me from complacent contemplation,
force me to steer at risk of capsizing
into the depths of my mind.

What was it that tethered me to shore?

What stopped me from being swept away?

I peer over the side, meekly searching for my own reflection
and finding the waters too murky, too muddled.

Perhaps this is for the better:
they always say to go with the flow.

Who in their goddamn mind asked for rain in August?
Who requested a torrential downpour to complement the sun?

Skin soaked a sickly mixture of sweat and rain,
beading across my forearms like rivulets of honey
dripping down the side of a jar.
I can't shake it away or dab it dry
any better than I can point at the sky
and proclaim that clouds are banned, now--
it's time for rainbows and sunshine
until such time that I can debark and find shelter
to weather the storm.

I come to grips
with the fact that as long as the deluge threatening
to break the banks and incite a flash flood
has yet to burst,
everything is okay.

Everything is okay. Everything is okay. Everyth-

One huge breath as I go under,
plunging below
to do some soul-searching.

Unafraid, though uncertain
of what I may find.