by Brian Francis
I sat alone in the rain,
lightening, casting strobe like shadows all around.
The clouds, reaching down and touching upon me,
sending joyous shivers across my being.
Worshiping the storm and receiving its blessings;
awed by the beauty, the strength, the wonder.
Swirling clouds, imitating forms in the sky.
Thunderheads, rising to their flat tops,
before falling, violently, back to earth
in the cold burst, of what are monsoon.
These, the storms of desert evenings,
rise in the afternoons, of summer's days.
Giving life to all of the desert's children, in turn.
The saguaro stands majestically, poised on eternity.
Its crown of color open,
worn proudly in the silhouette
of lightning's flash.
Posted on 09/02/2003
Copyright © 2019 Brian Francis
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Don Coffman on 09/04/03 at 09:17 PM|
There's not much better than a good storm on a beautiful landscape. An excellent job of capturing that picture in verse.
|Posted by David R Spellman on 09/06/03 at 09:07 PM|
Always loved the desert, esp. there in AZ. You catch the storm well here - I can just see the saguaro and ocotillo and the arroyos filling with rain. Nicely done.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/16/06 at 02:54 AM|
I like all of this, but the last stanza just makes the picture jump into my mind, like some awesome Arizona magazine.