Posted on Oct 20, 2013



Picture courtesy of

I heard it first
before I saw it flash in anger
Its rumble and roar
mighty in its scream
Did shake the foundations
of my abode
As the sky let loose
its waters of frustrations
Tears pummeling the panes
and roof outside
People running for cover
from its wrath
Wanting to be heard
by all who will listen
And then it strikes out
in a stretch of white
Forking across the sky
reaching seemingly for those below

Then the sky clears
briefly, a glimpse of blue
The mood now maybe
And then it starts again
as stones of hail
Pound all in its wake
venting blind fury
Differentiating between no living thing

And I feel its pain, anger,
wrath and sorrow
I feel its loss, frustration
and sadness
For we are one
in our emotional being
Striking out to
be heard

Posted in: Poetry