Brontophobia

Through clenched teeth, her breath is shallow.
Perfectly still behind closed doors, she awaits.
First is the rain, then the lightning will follow;
The brilliant electric sparks she'll always hate.

She opens the door, and feels the moist air
Caress through her hair, like fingers, to reassure her
That everything will be fine, though, she shivers,
And shrugs it off like it's an insect crawling on her
Because once the rain begins, so will her fears.

"No", she says, her whispers calm as the wind,
"I've dread this thunderstorm since dawn arrived,
And I've got no time to whine about the lightning.
I will conquer this phobia, and love the rain,
And let it kiss my skin and wash away the pain."