Thunderstorms
Miracle man
2/6’2025
First a flash, then crack.
Lightening comes pre thunder,
always the earth shakes.
Spring Enchantment (a love poem)
As wisps of clouds creeped
overhead before a storm moving quickly east,
the moon lay down his vanilla beams
to dispel the darkness hiding our bared feet —
set side by side — romantically
touching for warmth, for love, for eternity,
hopefully, to envelop us, like the coming rain
in our lives’ thundering, combined heartbeats
…joined into those duets passion will release
all about from the great springs of yearning.
(c) s.y. Eslinger 3/2024
Thanks be to God——
Beneath California's boundless skies,
Nature roars with all her might,
In thunderous tantrums that arise.
Severe storms, where heavens rupture,
A dance of chaos, wild and free,
Electric bolts, a vivid rapture,
Unleashing fury upon the sea.
The skies grow dark, the winds arise,
As thunder drums its fearsome beat,
Rain cascades from the sullen skies,
In torrents, mingling with the street.
A symphony of majesty lies,
As lightning strikes and thunder crashes,
The spirits of nature harmonize.
The salty winds bellow in crescendo,
Whispering secrets of the ancient land,
The crashing waves, a wild innuendo,
Intertwined with chaos, they withstand.
The palm trees bow, their branches sway,
In reverence to the raging gales,
The hills and valleys drenched in gray,
Quenching thirst as water prevails.
Within the storm, there exists beauty,
An awe-inspiring force of unity,
Instilling reverence and humble prayer.
The earth rejuvenates, free from pain,
And life resumes at a gentle pace.
Something about a thunderstorm
that takes my thoughts beyond the norm,
as up above in other worlds-
a battle in the skies unfurls.
Those thunder booms, like cannons roar
and growl as dark clouds clash in war,
then send explosions through the sky,
as lightning sparks the battle cry.
How deafening a roar it makes-
for miles, like sonic booms, it breaks;
so minuscule becomes my Earth-
diminished by its cosmic dearth.
For miles, the lightning bolts reach out-
a sky that flashes all about;
another world at war up there-
of us, our Earth, so unaware.
A thunderstorm is one small part-
a cosmic wonder, battling art
that takes my thoughts beyond the norm.
Something about a thunderstorm.
Campfires and Thunderstorms
Campfires and thunderstorms:
Heads poke out from under cover
To see clouds bursting
That swell the river.
Ears prick to hear tree-snapping sounds
As lightning cracks and thunder booms.
Torrential rains pour down to soak the ground;
The firewood gets wet, and the tent becomes waterlogged.
Dismal and miserable, the campers reflect;
Then, their eyes fix upon the canoe tucked away,
Still overturned and safely protected.
Sighs of relief are exhaled as they sit and wait.
It’s thunderstorm country around here.
They roam the boiling, hot, southern skies
on legs of lightning, like dark, angry trolls.
My Chinese roommate is impressed with them
because as menacing and mountainous and electrical
as they seem, through the trees whip and the rain
lashes - like special effects - no real damage is done.
Love is like that, a circus briefly coming to town,
that scintillates, palpitates, irritates or validates
- a carney-call with the urgency of a sale.
“Run away and join the show,” it whispers.
Love is both less than it seems and more than it is.
Anne will you ever Answer
David J Walker
I
What toys were projected
Into your dreams
Were children permitted in
Dreamland back then
Or did you stand on the outside
Fenced in by the calendars of
Another time
II
What sounds scared you
Did they come from thunderstorms
Was it a lonely wind sent to
Send you into tumbleweed insanities
Ultimately
Caught in the barbs of fences
III
What shadows reminded you that
Something is following you that
There are no walls so tall that
They can’t get in that
Can scare you as long as you keep
Your eyes shut so tight that
everything will be alright
In the morning
IV
I see you standing silently
On the other side of the room
Packing as if there were somewhere
Left to go
Anne, you might have been
A royal ballet dancer
Anne will you ever answer
I shutter the windows
and secure the doors
and seal myself
in inner rooms
far from
the booms
the flashes
the shivering static
that shoots
through the air
on these summer afternoons
when no one is here.
Thunderstorms
Deserted the Sky
As nightly rituals go
Mine is whattapping my old
sister good night in South Africa
And tonight she said a storm is
a brewing
And the only thing that South Africa
does better than extreme corruption
is electric thunderstorms
So much so when she was a child
she used to creep into my parents
bedroom
So my Dad could cradle
her while keeping her safe and watching it beside her
And in so doing turned the fear
of thunder and lighting into a
form of creature comfort and
the happiest of memory
Drifting dark clouds race to blanket the sun
Not a bird nor insect or creature in sight
Momentarily stillness…
Tree branches brace
As silence overcomes the debris engulfed winds
Lightning supplying the only inkling of light
A sudden rumble breaks the anticipation of what’s to come
Rain begins to mist
Wind gust enhances
Clouds vigorously churn
Thunder crackles intensify
Downpour surges, drenching all in its path
Bombarding the atmosphere through
Whimsical sounds of natural chaos
Reluctantly unnoticed, the transformational
Beauty of the thunderstorm
Of course others occupy my thoughts
Not during this thunderstorm
Because I am concentrating on her beauty
Thunder. Lightning. I am enthralled and impressed.
Obviously a nature lover, I am open to the storm
She is prancing and dancing through my mind tonight
Not in the forefront, but I cannot help but feel her power
Observe her fortitude and grace
I shall neither hinder her
Or obstruct her in any way
As she prances around tonight
She is as obdurate as an owl with dinner
Showing her force in thunder pops and lightning swirls
Some object
Not I
Thunderstorms and I have an oath
To uphold each other’s truth
I stay in my oasis of a house
No matter what has occurred outside
An obligation to myself
To adhere to the natural oath
Thunderstorm and I have signed
To adhere to and abide by
In every occasion
Some feel storms are
Obscene. I adore her myself!
Sinews like steel traps,
Contracting and expanding.
Rhythm of movements
In fluidic four-four time;
Black stallion racing the wind.
Whistle, rumble, tap, tap, tap
The song of storms is like no other
The wind whistles a quiet tune,
Caresses your eardrums
And you're sure if you left the house
It'd caress your face as well
The thunder rumbles around you
Its gentle rumbles resonating through your being
The cloud's purr is below, above, and all around you
It's like a mother's soft hum, lulling you to sleep
The sky's tears tap on your window
They try to coax you out of your protective barrier
If you listen and step outside
The falling droplets would cover you in their gentle, wet kisses
Whistle, rumble, tap, tap, tap
The song of storms is like no other
A bucket list –In Bed with Summer Thunderstorms
A bucket under the leak in the roof has a solid hole
Next to the pail a trail of water and the bucket trembles
In the storm from the steady stream and into the night
Two holes one shelter one bucket one trailblazing journey
Is the bucket half full or is it half empty should I fix it?
Who is the roof and where goes the flow am I the bucket
To write poems under the leak please give me a waterproof pen
No paper needed I will write on the sheets and the wood of the rafter
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