THE AFTERMATH OF THUNDER

We fear the storm. We fear the raging wind, the damaging hail, the wrath of flames that race across the sky and the booming sound of thunder. It is not without good reason to be fearful of forces that are greater than our ability to control them. But, if you are anything like me, you also feel truly alive within the vortex of the storm – the chaos – the uncertainty – the challenge to be stronger, braver, more enduring. The adrenaline pumps, the need to succeed tempers my fear and makes me feel totally and completely alive.

So, let’s admit that “storm,” “thunder” are metaphors for the challenges that life hurls at us. From financial woes to health issues, to loss when we were counting on love, to failure when we were sure of success, to loneliness amid a crowd, life is, metaphorically speaking, one impressive thunderstorm! But to be perfectly honest, I believe it is during those times when we teeter on the brink of disaster, that we can feel most alive. We may tremble, but we keep on moving. We may despair, but we keep on trying. We may feel as though we have nothing left in the tank, but somehow, some way, our engine keeps on running.

It is those “silent” times that leave me feeling as though I’m drifting through life – not really going anywhere, not really living; it is those moments when I stare at the blank page and think, what could I possibly write about – where will the poem come from? It is those times when I feel lethargic, as if I’m waiting for something to happen, the other shoe to drop – and the wait is mind numbing. I am a person who needs to be doing, going, trying, feeling, living fully…

The times we are living in are, in fact, a thunderstorm of historic proportions, from war and threats of war, from bombs dropping on innocent people to the guiltless dying of thirst and hunger when there is clearly, now at least, enough food and water to sustain every human being on the planet; from global warming and climate change to indifference and greed, political manipulation to outright evil, underhanded bargaining for gain at the expense of others. A thunderstorm my friends, to put all others to shame. A thunderstorm that calls upon us, each of us, to feel the life pulsing within and get up, get out, get moving, get doing, get down to the business of living – living every day, to its fullest and – here’s the important part, doing meaningful things, helping one another, demanding justice for everyone, becoming - together – a force to be reckoned with - healing this sick and sorrowful planet.

We are, each of us, a single voice. But I have heard, within a chorus of hundreds singing, a single voice rise gloriously above the rest. I have heard one voice above the roar of the crowd as the ball flies out of the ballpark, sharper, clearer, more joyful than all the rest. The storm rages about us – embrace its power and become one, with the thunder…


In the aftermath of thunder
silence is stable as steel
the mind hears the heart feels
the emptiness of echoes the
memory of tears we are
combustible when lightning flashes
when the ground shakes
beneath our feet we meet the storm
with trepidation and with fear
but grateful
to perceive believe if
only for a moment life
is real

it is
the silence that defeats us
the air so still it almost
isn’t there afraid
to move to breathe to care
we strain against the confines
of our skin begin to wonder
if living is the imprint
of a dream if love
was just a dim reflection
of desire if what it seemed
to be was nothing
like it was
at all

we taste
the bitterness of lust
upon our tongue we wonder
if something of us managed
to survive the fall or do we
dangle like
the broken
branches on a tree
waiting patiently to
tumble or humbly
live like shadows
invisible
between the darkness
and the dawn we are
must be

the storm
change the landscape
with our thunderous roar
of outrage and disdain
alleviate the pain
become the earth’s
revitalizing rain

in the aftermath of rumble
silence is as still
as a held breath
we
fade
without the saving grace
of thunder
into the patient arms
of death…

Susan A. Katz (All rights reserved)

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