The Thunder Kings

The rains had come and washed away the old world, the thunder had banged its drum with a weary warning --- ' I do not come oft, but I return and weep and growl a lion's roar ' --- I will for a brief moment be as a child and fear again... the cracks and booms rouse my guilt, Telemachus would say the gods were going mad... There is something 'neath the earnest thunder-drums which bangs something-wicked-this-way-comes --- and fades, gently rolling away like a sonic carpet Its change I welcome, and fear, and wonder if I was afraid at all, wonder what deathly grip may one day come --- suddenly, or love may guide me through its tumult, and dark valleys, with flowers blooming 'neath my faithful feet; and though I was once afraid like a boyhood fear --- startled from my very boots, I shall miss my old friend thunder, who reminds I'm quite alive, and survived I have, his treacherous thunderclaps, and his sneaky ways, my great trickster (Thunder!)