The Storm

Quite simply written in praise of electric storms, I have always been drawn out by big storms especially when they come at night.

 

The Storm

 

Feel it coming, air tingling, taut.

Scent of singed powder charge and shot.

Clouds full aglow with flicker light

Elemental power fills the night.

Storm rages high above my home

Lights sea and land in monochrome

Lightening stark in full glare

Pulsing light, static charges air

I must be there, the pull so strong

I stand exposed before the storm

It fills me up skin and bone

Lifts me up and makes me more.

I can’t resist I will not try

Like man obsessed for this high

I will respond, because I must.

Deny the Gods, in the storm I trust.

 

©Dave Kavanagh 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

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