Thunder pass as paper kite held high on spider's web,

Your sound and bright criss-cross and crack this land,

Touch distant earth with charge unknown this dark and breathless night.

Deep blue above,

Long days of brittle heat,

Crisp greenless grass in wait for flood that falls far flung on dry deserted street.

This parched and thirsty ground,

I am as dust on floor laid bare,

As soil and dirt,

As grain of sand,

As song I pause,

For you my downfall true,

My tune of fire fanned.

Thunder pass this way,

Bring sound and light,

Crack loud across this land,

Touch earth with charge unknown this airless night.

ORIGINATOR · Mike de Sousa

ART FORM · Poetry

COMPLETED · 2014

Free to enjoy. Copyright maintained. Not to be used for ai or commercial gain.