The hushness was full of faded, rumbling echos
ears are attuned to the faintest whisper of advance.
Stillness spreads to the trees, the birds, the insects,
waiting uneasily for gentle rain or shocking savage drowning.
With drums varying measures, vibrations and tones
the far thunder comes in low sound waves that tickle the skin.
A fly-by of scented errant breeze thrills the sense center,
vision is captured by the coarsness of dark, sheep's-coat clouds
ponderous and plentiful, throwing their sun-flared jagged bolts
into my heart and soul.
The quiver starts in a small wave, gathering it's skirts of heavy chaos
immutabley moving the thick dry air to it's triangular fore.
Lightness of wind-touch turns into sudden push of tottering unbalance.
A burgeoning weight starts the frantic movement of branches and hair
that begin striving to flee the rage that is coming from the gravid air.
Standing so small in front of this vast earth-eater, fire-starter, life-taker
are my body and soul.
Cracks of greater clarity deafen, and strobe-eyed from horrible energy
the pressure builds, twisting thoughts of security into despair.
Manuvering to encircle, the height of weight is about to collapse
onto the cringing earth, maleable and ripe for uncaring rearrangement
shivering in fear and howling in primal anguished hysteria as
the world becomes nothing but violence and agitation, swift-blowed and hammering
to the core of my soul.
The orgasmic sensations of earthly, angry fury and whipping water bullets,
tornadic gusts from right angles and squashing down thrusts, stream
through pourous fiber of skin, energizing to pulsating estacy
the frailness of life's gift, the yearning to be noticed by such a power
to actually be alive-aware, vast and dangerous,
reaching to fulfill my fantastic climatic path,
to fully know the life-force and feelings of
the thunderstorm soul.
Erin Moen
5/25/02
Or, the short, acrostic version of Thunderstorms:
Thunderstorms bring
Hammering winds blowing fiercely
Under boiling billowing clouds with
Nowhere to hide from slanting rain,
Destruction is flung wide while
Energy is savagely dispersed in
Rampaging reaving fury, leaving me
Strobe-eyed from lightning as
Thunder claps deafen my mind and
Ominous darkness of sky
Reveals much longed for
Monsoon's ferocious
Start to dry desert death.
Great vivid portral of a storm! Outstanding. ;) Silver
Reviewed by Steve Reichard (Reader)
Reviewed on November 20, 2002
Awesome poem with such fantastic imagery:) such a joy to read and I also would like to thank you for the kind comments you left me on my new Fish food poem and I like your idea for a follow up to it too:)
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