Poetry

Just for a moment it is there, the lightning bolt that falls
and the smell of something that burns and melts next to a puddle
from where the blue spark bright blinding touches and reach
and with a terrible thunder suddenly roars
 
with fear on the faces of my child, my wife
that just where I am standing
that lightning bolt does menacing fall.
In that moment’s blinding blue light
 
while a terrible rainstorm pours down
and I do shake like a reed
I do know that such moments does not linger
but you can take them out of your thoughts again
 
just like moments of bliss and happiness
where the touching, the colour, the sound and smell does remain
and etched you can find that moment again
from where like old letters you do fold them up and keep them in a small box.
 
When more lightning bolts slam down my ears are tingling and ringing
while I run to where the woman and child is waiting on the porch
and in the garden its twilight, almost night
where the woman and child are both crying from emotion.