It’s after 1:00am,
and I’m awakened by an approaching storm.
The distant thunder sounds through my open windows,
And I reach up with one hand to close them a little.
A little more.
A little more still,
As the force of the storm becomes more apparent.
I lock them down.

Rousting myself out of bed,
I flick the power switch on my computer to “off,”
And lie back in my chair.
In the deep dark of the night,
The lightning strobes and blinds my tired eyes.
The thunder, a bolero of fleeting power,
Reminds me of life itself.
Each bolt of lightning lasts,
Only a moment in the span of the storm,
Like a life cast against eternity,
But the thunder,
The impact,
Lives on for a time as the evidence.