Thunder Meditation

Out on the porch at end of day,

hear the thunder, feel the spray,

Lightning ripples across the sky.

Sniffing ozone, here sit I

to watch the show.

Know the great power of wind and cloud.

Hear the thunder, awfully loud.

See the wind blowing things around.

Watch the hail and hear it pound

its wicked blows.

Still, it’s pleasant to sit down here.

Why no elemental fear,

hailstones falling, the size of dimes,

resting here and crafting rhymes?

Only God knows.

Copyright ©2020, Paul H. Harder II

This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.