Poetry

When the lightning did that night
flaming search the earth in blue-white branches,
mother did draw the curtains close.
 
On the porch I did see blue-white sparks running,
the rattle of some more thunder
did sound further away,
 
I could smell the fragrance of the rain
where fresh it did fume through the closed windows,
and early the power had been cut by the thunderstorm
 
and mother did open the Bible
at the light of a flaring candle
and did read of the rainbow
that comes after each rainstorm
 
and later the clouds were blown away,
while the doves did coo right through the night
and the moon did peep down from the heaven,
 
while I could see stars burning
as if they are beacons
that God had put into space.