Thunderstruck

 

 

 

 

I was a father before I realized that thunder

Has a surprisingly large vocabulary

There’s fierce crashing thunder

The kind that wakes you from a dreaming sleep

 

But there’s also rolling thunder

That takes you along with it

As a wave lilting
On the edge of the sea

 

Soft thunder can spin you around

To wordlessly ask

If anyone else noticed it

So gentle as to make you feel

More than hear its presence

 

Constant pounding thunder serves as an atmospheric drum kit

Marking time in the heavens

Sharing nature’s knowledge with the mortals

Wise enough to listen

Rather than be lulled to sleep by it

 

And there’s booming thunder of the sort

That makes babies cry,

Shocks adults into stunned silence

And makes the old folks laugh. 

It’s the sound that reminds us thunder may be a warning

For as Zeus knew so well

The thunder of the skies celebrates the onslaught of lightning

We do well to pay heed

 

 

© Gayle Force Press 2009

 

 

 

• Poetry