
I often wonder,
what it is about
thunder
that causes
such a
mysterious
sensation,
from deep within.
There are times
when I’m smitten
with a grin,
as I
ponder and reflect
upon
my life as a child.
Thinking
about the thunder
that would rain down
when we least expected
it.
And then?
Running,
hiding, and trying to find
a place to not be affected
by it.
And, as I write that last
stanza, it occurs to me,
the “it”
in compilation, is unseen
and hidden from view.
A mysterious, and, yes,
often ominous feeling,
even when the thunder
was not dealing it’s clatter.
Hiding under bed,
waiting, worrying, and
unofficially praying for a stead-
fast reprieve
form the hidden noise.
And, oh, what a joy!
When finally released
from the deluge
of noise,
which overwhelmed
my every sense
until, finally,
yes
poise,
did return.
And, I could crawl
out
from underneath,
and, once again,
breathe in
the
salty air
from the rain,
which did just fall.
Oh, thunder, you
are oft criticized, and
yet, are a part of
Nature, so I
do surmise,
you are elegant
in your ways.
And, I do always
pray, for a return
of the rain.
So if you must
also return,
very well,
I will prepare
as needed,
and,
see you thunder,
on the other
side of
the
season.