Thunder

Thunder frightens us; it works, dear deity.
It is like the crash of artillery
and the flash – an arc of petulance
is a whiplash across the bruised sky.
Our lives had been so orderly
now we dance to your howling tune
as furniture tumbles across the lawn.
A storm shows that you can still be angry.
You know how to put on a good show
you design its light and sound so artfully –
in your wrath is a great theatricality.
Perhaps it’s a covenant, like the rainbow
or a warning against complacency
each damaged town a test of ingenuity.