Thunder Roll

 

 

Thunder Roll

Unmistakable!

Imagined distant canon roar,

The first, “Boom!” of war,

Another and closer still,

A rolling cloudy clamor,

A thunderous cymbal crash,

A depth beyond,

Fuller,

More resonant,

More deeply felt,

Than man could ever create,

Or orchestrate,

Heaven drawn,

In awe enveloped rapture,

Waiting,

Anticipating,

Eyes drawn to where the ears have led,

Upwards,

As one's heart rests within,

The gray cloud covered sky,

And, all at once,

Descending,

All moist in movement,

Straight as string,

The deluge streams,

It dampens everything beneath,

Leaf, flower, and blade,

All and everything,

All,

Except my soul!

Peter Lowell Paulson

July 22, 2017

That Boy!

That Boy!

Oh, to capture once again,

Wide-eyed wonder of a child,

Flying freely facing forward,

Whisking water slide so wild,

God of mercy; Lord of joy,

How I want to be that boy.

Stomping in the puddled rain,

Catching snowflakes on my tongue,

Climbing high unto the ladder,

Swinging, grabbing every rung,

God of mercy; Lord of joy,

How I want to be that boy.

Jumping, rolling, tossed and tumbled,

Down the greenest, grassy hill,

At the bottom, trudging upward,

To roll again; regain the thrill,

God of mercy; Lord of joy,

How I want to be that boy.

I hear it in granddaughter’s laughter,

I see it in my grandson’s eyes,

Fully happy grand elation,

Feeling inner rapture rise,

God of mercy; Lord of joy,

Found once more that inner boy!

Peter Lowell Paulson

July 6, 2017