And when the thunder growled and roared
and the lightning blinded the sky
and the rain dropped
like a dying ancient tree of great stature,
yes, I ran for cover,
but with heavy-hearted reluctance,
simply knowing I should,
knowing too,
that in the next such storm,
I will again.
but
I would have loved to have stayed
and to have celebrated the storm,
soaked to the marrow of my bones,
singing with the thunder
and dancing in the lightning,
but, like a wood nymph
waving a tearful goodbye to her lover,
I quietly stole away
to my hole in the ground.
(8 May 2011)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem