In Thunder
I saw myself in darkness
Scrawled in fading words on brick,
A silver beard buried in print,
Awaiting thunder.
Myself in held hands, in rain,
Beneath thunder, safe again.
Carried over those great waters
By night, I dreamed I could see more.
T’was too short – a gasp –
Then a dream reflected –
Counted syllables for mystery.
The puzzle box remains.
A stranger asks, where am I?
Where do I go?
I smile and say:
With me; now; away.
