Earlier in the year, tornadoes hit hard in several areas in the South and Midwest. I felt like it would be inappropriate to publish poetry about how much I enjoy a good, loud storm. But now that fewer thunderstorms bring tornadoes, I can share this poem.
Stormhigh
The wind's moans make me laugh,
And its shrieks bring me joy
As I capture it in the circle of my arms.
Its elemental parts shift and whirl,
Rubbing positive to negative,
Creating power.
Charge builds, earth and air,
And I, composed of earth and air, take it,
Make it part of me.
I ride the roll of thunder like a wave,
Call down the lightning
And grasp it in my fist.
It crackles and struggles in my hold,
But I drink its ozone odor
Till it fades to darkness on my palm.
copyright Angela Parson Myers 2011
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