I was born
in the thunder
birthed
to the whip
of the wind
my father was known
as the weather
a cloud
was my mother
the womb
and I would ride
-saddled-
the storm
bucking the blitz strikes
of lightning
raining on earth
down below
I am cumulus
I am cirrus
I am the feather
contrail
of the sky
and I laugh
at the fury of tempest
because I
was the child
of wild weather
and I
dance the cyclone
that spins
I know the name
of each raindrop
and I kiss
each one
as it falls
I wait
patient
until it rises again
in mist
as a ghost
as my friend
I am the child
of wild weather
in the weird light
in a deep voice
I sing
~
-
Author:
Frank Prem (
Offline) - Published: November 30th, 2017 00:12
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments5
And you are a child of beautiful poems, Frank!
I admire your imagination and your writing!
Very kind of you, Fred. I certainly can't do without them.
We're expecting a major storm event over the next 48 hours - big rain and extensive flooding.
Probably the inspiration for this little fella.
Hope you make it through OK!
Will have something more to write about Fred. Thank you.
A fine write Frank.
Thanks O. Cheers.
As Fred says, you have a super imagination - this is a stunner Frank
Thank you Michael. Big rain coming here. Could get wet.
Hope it doesn't prove to be a major problem Frank - get the umbrolly out
It has begun. Nice steady rain for the mo.
As one who is fascinated with clouds, I really appreciate your fine write, Frank ... expressed as only you can do!
They're great, aren't they. One big sheet of grey at the moment.
Cheers and thanks.
I like the rhythm to this beautiful poem.
Thank you daisychain. CHeers.
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