lightning

Poem 22 of National Poetry Month 2020. Just some imagery to reflect how I perceive the writing process sometimes, using one of my favorite elements of nature. https://soundcloud.com/vahouser

Words roll

to the last whispers

of thunder

cascading through

the shadows of dusk.

Trails of ink curve 

like billows of cloud

reflecting the 

tangerine glow

of the final sun.

Among the wisps

of floating smoke,

a flash fading

to flicker;

lightning chasing

another song

or memory

across my mental

valleys.

Some are captured,

etched into the hillsides,

splintering the trees,

leaving my pen running dry.

A single drop

of salted rain

bleeds the clouds

of some evocation,

thin as mist

into the crevices of 

the page.

Rain becomes river

and I am left a god,

reforming the landscape

in my image,

molding clay into

mountains,

to taunt the flicker of lightning

and echo the resounding thunder

back to me.

Author's Note

Happy with this one, but critique is always welcome. You can listen to the recitation here: https://soundcloud.com/vahouser/lightning