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Date published: May 2, 2006
Black velvet torn by tethered streaks
searing and ripping across the skies,
Blinding flashes cast ghostly shadows in silhouette images
with abrupt crashing blows of sight and sound in unison,
The cascading rumblings crescendo ends in a cymbal's clash,
while resounding echoes fade, but never truly cease
as they crusade through the fields of the night,
Terror strikes in hearts of the timid who quake with fear
and quiver with each stroke of lightning and roar of thunder,
Why, I wonder do they hide their eyes and seek sanctuary,
Is it not nature at it's grandest of moments,
filling the soul as you witness the strength of the gods?
It is a feast for the spirit of mortal men who recognize
the grandeur and thrive on the vitality and beauty
of the heavens whose curtain is unveiled,
They speak as if to say, 'Behold my glory!
Draw strength from the power I release
for all to revel in and share in my magnificence!'
Jack E. Bilek Copyright(c)5-23-04 (All rights reserved)
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Poetry
