A Voice Like Rolling Thunder

you speak,
with a voice like rolling thunder;
resonating in harmony
with the words still thrumming, vibrating,
vaulting the melody of my lilting chords to the skies,
to be chased by black clouds carrying your voice;
the earth trembles
as we compose our rhapsody

you speak,
with clouds whirling across your face;
the wind of our contention
blowing their billowing shadows in raging patterns;
gathering in your eyes
they churn about dark cliffs towering there,
from whose heights I may yet fall;
even now my footing capricious
where none but I have stood

you speak,
and lightning flares in a halo;
crowning your glory and striking me blind
in a moment igniting a brushfire, an inferno
blazing with the kindling of unstoked flames;
adverse charges pulling,
pushing at latent summer heat;
the air sizzles with the promise
of elements burning

you speak,
a tempest on the horizon;
mounting on the turn of evenfall
as violent in its nature as it was sudden;
ruler of turbulent skies, chanting your furor
consuming us both in a whirlwind of temper;
forthwith the firmament shakes
and I shudder at your attention

you speak,
and your cry rings in my ears;
the storm is flying
unable to steady the tumult
arising in a tropic like ours;
to the heavens you take, trailing a cloak of rain
and I of two minds
yearn for the chaos of swirling clouds,
for I cannot forget;
and chasing your voice
I run to the sound of thunder