Analysis of The Afternoon Storm

It's been pouring since this morning, the rooms shift about in impatience
The often-calm clouds wave about the sky at alarming speeds
The firs groan of saudade on this afternoon, the wind tearing at their branches with excessive violence

It seems as though all the earth mourns the sun
However, I do not as I sit facing the window in my old, wooden chair
curled up with a cat and a cup of tea, I watch as the storm fades to a drizzle; nearly done

I recall many times where on melancholic days such as this, Father would open his leather bible and read the story of Jesus on the boat
My young eyes would widen with fascination; the dark sea of galilee, seeming so vivid and near
The waves roaring far above the torn sails, and yet he kept it afloat

He feared not the storm, so neither will I.