I hear thunder, like a storm that sweeps the country.
Always thunder, but never any rain.
In a drought, the air is dry; there’s still some lightning.
I hear thunder and its deep and rolling pain.
But the fields are dying. Acres sit abandoned.
And a fire chews the forests and the hills,
And fire does not stay where you expect it.
Fire grows and goes where fire wills.
But there’s thunder. All this thunder. And the sky shakes.
I hear thunder, and I pray to hear that drop
Of the first of thousands, torrents cleansing, cooling.
The ground is thirsty, but no two clouds will stop.
I hear thunder. I hear clouds clash in the heavens.
I see lighting bolts that slash across the sky,
And sometimes hit the flames and make more fire.
I crash into my hands and cannot cry.
If a hurricane must level every building
For rain to fall and thunder to unite,
This drought has learned to break up peaceful showers,
So prepare for floods. May a tempest come tonight.
© Nathan Cook, 2022
The Favoring Wind 