Thunderstorm Poem by bryan wallace

An ominous slate-grey pregnant rain cloud,
Drifts into view over Lackan Moor.
A few spits of rain can be felt on an upturned palm,
Soft and cool at first -
Refreshing in the close, sultry summer air -
Before getting heavier, and heavier still.
My raincoat and sou'wester - rapidly unfurled -
As the sky darkens, like a winter's night.
Livestock run for the shelter of the hedgerows -
I know I should do the same; but I don't.
The dog whines and stands haunched close by my side.
He feels and fears the electricity in the air.

A brilliant flash of light from the heavens -
Blinding to the eye, momentarily,
Giving the world a bluish tint,
Before darkness descends, once again.
The birds fall silent, not a sound to hear,
For a split second;
Then the peace is shattered -
A rattle of thunder, close at hand,
Leaves ringing in my ears -
The faithful hound whines and whimpers by my side.
Rain falls down in stair-rods -
Bouncing of the stony laneway,
Striking me in the face -
Like handfuls of gravel thrown by the schoolyard bully.

The rainwater, running down the laneway -
Feels like wading in a river, soaks my boots.
The electrical tension builds in the air once again;
Another flash, another rattle -
And the rain falls heavier still.
They'll be flooding tonight, I think, if that keeps up.
Another bolt of lightening -
It hits and splits the now-singed branch,
Which hangs like a broken limb -
From the sycamore tree, on the top of the hill.

Almost as quickly as it had begun -
The rainfall softens, then stops.
The electrical heat and tension leave the air;
Being replaced by a soft cooling summer's breeze -
Quickly dispersing the grey rain clouds -
Revealling, the pale blue sky, and the sun, once again.

The remnants of the rain squelches in my boots,
My clothes are soaking too.
The dog shakes out his sodden coat,
The cattle leave their cover -
Carrying on grazing where they had left off.
The songbirds start singing their merry melody, once again.

Business as usual -
All is normal, almost as if nothing had happened at all!
The rainbow, arching high in splendid colour,
My sodden clothes, the clear fresh air,
And the injured sycamore tree -
All the evidence that remains,
Of this sudden summer thunderstorm.

Caught out in a sudden summer thunderstorm - soaked to the skin -
What a disaster, many would think -
Not I though!
A chance to wonder at the power of nature,
Witness her in all her glory,
Helping to remind me, how puny, and insignificant I am.