Thunder Psalm by Lisa Bellamy

As your cloud turned dark, then darker,
   like a fool I stood in the meadow—

angry after a quarrel
   with my beloved—distracted,

careless with myself. An old habit.
   I opened my mouth to taste rain,

invited Lightning to amuse me.
   Oh Thunder, you are the good god:

you tried. You spoke, you rumbled,
   but I refused your warning

until you lowered yourself,
   cracked hard over my head.

In retrospect, I see that was love.
   I yelped, I ran into the house,

but Thunder, you were not finished.
   You followed me, you shook the house,

until I crouched on the living room rug,
   a small, heart-palpitating mammal:

finally, I remembered the old humility—
   yes Thunder, yes. Thank you.

— from Juniper Volume 5, Issue 3