Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Thunder


I hear the thunder
a rumble in the distance
attended by flashes of light,
and rain.

Moving at its own speed
neither slow nor hurried
cleaning and healing and washing,
like rain.

An integral and intimate component
of what lives, and is, and will
following its path and swath, wet
with rain.

Washing my face, smoothing lines
of worry and doubt, and fear,
falling on my hair, washing
with sound and sense and light,
like rain.

Time is not chronology
or a clock
Time is sometimes soft.
often hard, and driving
always cleansing,
 like rain.

This poem is submitted for Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems, please visit the site. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.

Photograph: Before the storm by Larisa Larisa via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

13 comments:

Jerry said...

No wonder I am so fascinated when a storm rolls in. It taps me like a second hand on the shoulder and says..."this too shall pass, take notice."
Excellent comparison Glynn.

lynnmosher said...

Ooo...I love this one, Glynn! Excellent!

blogoratti said...

I thought that was lovely.

Maureen said...

Thunder gives way to lovely reflection on time. I especially like the concept of time being "sometimes soft, / often hard".

Linda said...

This is stunning Glynn. I love a "gentle" thunder storm. It is all those things you've said so eloquently.

nance marie said...

thunder
i feel
the vibrations
moving through me
me
moving through time
time
taking me through
to the other side

Brian Miller said...

Time is not chronology
or a clock
Time is sometimes soft.
often hard, and driving
always cleansing,
like rain.

excellent close man...it comes in its own time...and when it does..love it...we often look at storms in a negative connotation too...guess we do that with our circumstances at times too eh?

Louise Gallagher said...

Time... always cleansing like rain.

Beautiful!

Natasha Head said...

I think your words perfectly capture that cleansing...when you can still smell the electricity in the air and the pavement steams before you...just a wonderful share!

S. Etole said...

There's nothing quite like the first thunderstorm of spring.

caryjo said...

Rain is a good thing... and we're supposed to have our first season thunderstorm tonight. My heavens... so soon! Nice poem, thinking.

Elizabeth Young said...

I love the unusual meter of this poem and also the repetition 'like rain.' Having grown up in England I am aware of what it's like to have one's life grounded in rain; you have done a wonderful job here of describing it's bliss.

Laurie Kolp said...

For some people, thunder represents a negative... but here you've presented it in a whole new light... beautiful.