I am the Storm

I am the storm.
He is the sky.
He wants the world.
I'm not as high.

He is the lightning.
I am the air.
He burns so brightly.
I ruffle his hair.

Sometimes I stop.
I run out of air.
He tells me to breathe.
And then I just stare.

At all of these things
That we've done and we're doing.
I don't always see it.
Because I've been stewing.

Been stewing on something
for such a long time.
It's all finished now.
That's why it can rhyme.

I can't write a verse.
Till I figure it out.
Before that I scream
I yell and I shout.

That's been the process.
I'm tired of it.
It makes me so empty
Or so full of shit.

How does he know
just what I need?
He waits.  He is patient.
He's planted the seed.

That seed is now growing.
Not quite finished yet.
He's growing with me.
That's my safe bet.

He doesn't rush me.
He doesn't push.
He will not ever
ask me to shush.

He lets me talk.
Let's me figure it out.
But sometimes steps back
when I start to spout.

He doesn't need me
to be up with him.
Don't need to catch up.
Don't need to win.

I go at my pace.
He goes at his.
That's the truth.
That's just what is.

It's more than enough
because it is right.
Now I can sleep.
This is a good night.