thunder loves me

roughhewn, 

the way thunder hugs me,

from the inside out.

I was there for the silence building,

before the booming outcry.

and now I tremble 

in the sing along.

what I could come to say,

maybe says of itself. 

and I ride those sound waves from within,

as if deeply expressing me.

otherwise, 

caught between a cat purr and a growl,

between a drum-skin rub 

and the beaconing of a balloon burst,

between the creeks of a dam break 

and imminent presence of a tall tree falling.

or is it that loud hush of running water, 

rushing to be instantaneously gravity free

or the earth absorbing 

a tree trunk standing so unthinkable tall,

breaking down to its knees into dusty humility?

thunder, tell me, within incomplete lines,

as if mumble into murmur 

into the solemn be-damned,

by the pronouncement of a roar.

acoustics in baritone leathers are bustling 

between silences building into a rumble.

that just want to hug the say out of me, 

for myself.

thunder is so invitational.

I just need to chorus in 

for my own reasonings.

but I do appreciate the resound,

as if coaxing.

it's like permission from the ethers,

I can, for now, readily appropriate.

sky-bound, hear me roar . . .