The Thunderstorm
by R.E. Slater
Playing outdoors on nearby hills
it was felt before heard or seen -
a stilling, welling silence
making all eerie, alone,
vulnerable.
Looking into the far distance
along a failing horizon -
we next heard the thundering
echoes rumbling upon our ears
warning of a coming, gathering storm.
The clear skies overhead
quickly turned a dark, wicked green -
within, jagged lightening
flashed, and fell, within the rising,
mountainous, thunderheads.
Running home we gathered inside
to watch and listen at
our large picture window -
seeing the white heat of lightening
then hearing its sizzling crack
in the spanning airs.
As suddenly, the hard rains fell
smiting both earth and field -
falling in thick, heavy, wet sheets
of wind and rain sent hurling
before our watchful eyes.
As soon as the lightening ceased
and heavy rainstorm passed we
tumbled out of the house shod
in yellow raincoats and rubber
rainboots to run and play.
Though the rain showers still
fell pure joy gripped our
little souls delighting
the rain and wind amid the
failing, echoing thunders.
We stomped across large,
muddy, puddles in the farm lane
then ran fast across the lawns
cluttered in branch and tree trash
blown down in the heavy storm.
All lay stirred and shining before
our amazed, wondering eyes -
reviving in greening renewal
where misty rainbows glistened
across the yards.
Tiny bits of arc'd light that
dance'd off the last of the
falling rains, bouncing off
the wet grasses and
wet, dripping trees.
And when gone, we
turned back onto the lane
to stomp and play in the
muddy puddles filled with
wander and discovery.
R.E. Slater
April 19, 2025
@copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved
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