The Lightning Poem

There is a stillness in the lightning’s flash,
A moment of calm before the thunder’s crash.
There is a joy just after the plasma’s bolt
A hidden infinity before the electric jolt.
I would like to be struck by lightning, I think.
Soak up the energy like a long-needed drink.
Maybe at last I’d feel more awake
For one infinite second before the sky quake.
Maybe I’d see angels! Or perhaps God himself
would come down to me from his celestial shelf.
Or maybe the pagans were right in their myth
And it would just be Thor at work with his smith.
Maybe I’d see a darkness, so long and wide,
That it would make death feel empty inside.
Then I’d sink like a pebble forever and ever
Until looking inward becomes my only endeavor.
I’d forget the ground, forget the storm,
forget my family, and forget to mourn
for all the things I’d forgotten before.
All I’d do is fall, charged to my core.
Or maybe it would hurt. My skin might catch fire.
My soul would blaze with an earthly desire.
I’d run to your place, all crisp and burned
and tell you about the things I’ve learned.
Then we’d lie all night without ever moving.
When day breaks, you’d look at me disapproving.
You’d tell me to leave, say it was all a mistake.
And I’d sheepishly comply, sealing my fate.
Or maybe, just maybe, I’d stand there for hours
In the most cacophonous of thundershowers.
The lightning would flash with horrific light
But not a bolt would hit me, like I thought it might.
Editor: Erynn Crittenden







