The world overwhelms my senses.
Furious thunderheads fill an entire horizon,
throwing shadows over all the prairie in sight,
casting bolt after bolt of white lightning on fields.
The wind bears petrichor to my nose,
smelling of struck grass and freshened soil;
its pleasant musk lingers on my tongue.
As the storm rolls, lumbering, toward me,
purple and yellow flashes dance upon the blue.
Crash after mighty crash resounds throughout the air.
Underground ledges of rock tremble under my feet.
A tornado then two twist a way from Heaven to Earth
and drop their funnels in a rage of dust.
The Earth rises a little, and the skies step down to meet her;
the firmament connects with terra firma for a moment.
Beauty, I would die at your hands and rejoice.
About the Poet
By day, Ethan McGuire is a healthcare IT professional. By night, he is a writer, whose work has been published by Better Than Starbucks, Foundling House, The Dark Sire, and Vita Brevis, among others. Ethan lives in the Florida Panhandle with his wife and their dog and cat and is a proud member of the Gulf Coast’s writing community.
For the first time in nearly five years, Vita Brevis is closed for submission. Read the full story here.
Gorgeous poem! And 💕 petrichor
Thank you! And “petrichor” is the best thing I could find to describe what I meant there.