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| Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash |
So young, so alone,
In my 2nd floor room
Parents eons away
Down a long flight of stairs
In the wee dark hours
If the sandman eluded me
My imagination went wild
With dark imaginings.
Was the attic door opening?
Was a creature under my bed?
Could I run down those stairs
Brave the darkness, reach their bed?
Only on thing could distract me
If awake in the witching hour.
Flashing lightening, crackling thunder,
A raging, violent, terrible storm.
Why I did they fascinate me?
I will probably never know.
From first flash to final crackle
My body tingled with delight.
Gazing out my only window
Eyes bathed in the energy strikes
Sometimes a single downward flash
Others a spidery horizontal web.
Ears reached for the wave of sound
Sometimes heard quickly, sometimes delayed.
It might be a quieter static crackling
Or a great terrifying thunderous boom.
With nature's each new display
My heart raced, my soul danced.
Wrapped in a blanket of light and sound
All my night fears disappeared.
As the storm moved onward,
Light and sound gradually diminished
A sadness quietly descended
I yearned for it to stay longer.
A gift was left in it's passing
One welcome and embraced.
All dark fears had been banished.
Sleep embraced me until morn.
Rarely do I get to bath now in
The joyous chaos of a raging storm.
I yearn for the sharp flashes and harsh crackles
That always cleanse and quiet my soul.
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