Everything is hushed, no breeze ruffles gently through the grass,
All is illumined by a soft, yellow light, the air is heavy,
We are waiting.
Birds take to wing, leaving their bits of bread, spurring themselves to fly quickly,
Now it’s heard, distantly, but quite clear, thunder,
A drop of rain gently kisses my hand, followed by scattered raindrops blessing the earth,
Softly, so softly.
Thunder is heard again, closer, closer, gusts of wind sweep over the garden swirling dust and leaves,
It is time.
The last birds take wing to the sky, and I must to my own eyrie fly,
The storm has come.
***© 2011 copyright Kristen Houghton all rights reserved
N.B: author's changes
In the 4th line of this work, which was re-typed in 2003, I used the word, “illumined.” This is the word I originally had in the poem. At the time of this poem’s publication in a college literary magazine in 1978, I was persuaded, against my better judgment, to use the word “illuminated”. I feel that the original wording,
“all is illumined” flows more easily and, using “poetic license” I have restored it.
In the 16th line, I changed the wording from “sweep over the garden, swirling over
dust and leaves” to “sweep over the garden swirling dust and leaves” because the second “over” is redundant. These are the only changes to the original. KH