One of the most violent thunderstorms in living memory has just passed over us here in Tramore. It seemed likely that the world was ending as the skies darkened to accentuate the rips of lightening. Rolls of thunder, which are still rumbling in the distance, silenced everything even the drum beats of my heart.
Instinct grabs hold when nature instils intense fear and reminds one of one’s coping mechanisms.
For me, three things came more naturally than I can even begin to describe:
1. Flight downstairs to bring a cowering puppy Stan up to lie beside me in bed:
2. Thoughts of the beautiful warning skies out at Garrarus Beach yesterday evening:
3. To poetry, and especially this poem which depicts thunderstorms in such a deliciously positive way:
Storm EndingThunder blossoms gorgeously above our heads,
Great, hollow, bell-like flowers,
Rumbling in the wind,
Stretching clappers to strike our ears . . .
Bitten by the sun
Dripping rain like golden honey—
And the sweet earth flying from the thunder.
Where do you find yourself going when storms rage?