Thunder grumbles in the distance,
the air, thick with heat
carries discord west.
Nearby, a stir, gladness harmonizes into song.
Sound rises up to greet an angry sky.
Discord. Then harmony,
a troupe of birds sing it,
in a chorus of flurry,
they shriek it.
Where do I put my attention?
On the tides of thunder that shake and rattle
the steadiness that is no more?
Or, nearby, I ask.
Hurry, hurry, the thunder roars,
storm warnings no longer ignored,
black and blue sky battle
while we pray for quiet.
Above, the sky splatters, a rorschach
Humanity polls and punts
flocks flee, shrieking and scattering
into cavernous space.
Nearby, a stir, a Willow tree shakes and shivers,
emptied of song, et al.
Save for one bird, undisturbed.
There. There is where I will put my resistance.
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