21

The Thunder began.

It growled up from places far away, 

from beyond where the lightning could be seen, felt or feared.

From beyond the here, the now... 

and time stood still.

Like a arguement left unresolved,  it grumbled itself back to life  far out on the edges of what mattered.

Now with new life, it gathered itself and seemed to churn and roil somewhere, far off yet somehow nearer, more familiar. 

Large bass notes soon joined choir and gave the sound shape and scope as if the earth itself was giving up its pain.

It Rolled on,

Tumbling over farmers fields, rural roads and small towns. Seemingly feeding on each new mile much like the dark clouds that spawned it had done to the sky earlier. All was dark, yet the sound still grew.

It grumbled ever on, ever more intense, ever closer. Then it was here.

Like a wave it rolled across the coast,,, angry, sad and vengeful, chasing something unseen as it rolled across the sweetgrass marshes on it's way out to sea. Shaking seeds from cattails and making fiddler crabs hide. The omnipotent voice of nature gone most scornful. Windows  in a hundred thousand homes shook and everyone felt very human and very frail. 

The depth of the sound was what I remember most. It wasn't a single sound like a note, but layer after layer of sound within sound, almost as if it was a chorus of souls on a singular journey.

Above,below,in front,behind and even inside of us, it left no doubt who, for that few seconds was in control. Our earth trembled. 

It held us, studied us, judged us, then moved on, still hotly on the trail of whatever it was that caused so much anguish to be released.

It slipped away in seconds that seemed like hours, gaining speed as it left the world of man behind with all of its Hope's and fears and tomorrows. 

It left an echo as it went, a faint reminder of who it was,  a kiss after a date, a marker of it's own past, a last line in a great book that sticks in your mind whenever the skies darken and the world growles in far away places.

R. Sweat