Thunderstorms. They have that texture of forever They change the colours of the sky They bring the scent of the sea Thunderstorms The coloured sands lift their hearts to them The trees bow before them The rivers plead for them Thunderstorms They impress the minds that feel them They beseech minds to behold them They are the fact and soul of times breath Thunderstorms Torrents surge from their hearts Stones cast near and far The curbside fills with their gifts Thunderstorms Seen from safe cover Through the pane they surge past wonderment Trailing off their soaking wardens Thunderstorms They left the twigs and leaves on the walk Puddles that reflect the departing cloud A signature of power passing Thunderstorms.
08/15/2007
Powerfully vivid, man. You paint a wonderful picture here.