sweet thunder

sweet thunder.
i miss you.
you called out. and again.

walk with them. like a maze. a race.
sea of minds, empty hearts in rapid motion past.
beckoning
the sights. the touch. the aura.
walking by the cripple, the leper, on broken red brick. with a broken red frame.
hands
open hands.
nothing in these open bruised hands.
a child begging. i take that back. ten children following me.
I cannot give. or provide. or even look away.
No.

And thus broken.
a sadness.
a darkness.
studying art. contouring your soul. sketching the motion.
the hills and valleys of this child's face.
the yesterday. the hope. the tomorrow
sweet dimples. dark eyes of deep chocolate.
and the gray thunder. again rumbling.
and the violent lightning. but responsive.
i miss you
we spoke tonight.
i heard your dark roar.
i cried. i cried. i cried. and you rained.
because broken am i. broken are you. broken is he and she and they and them.
and i am only studying the elements of art.
maybe a purpose. or a habit.
i only draw figural essence in my mind, seeing the movement.
i pencil the anxious legs, the bending elbows, the misunderstood heart.
and sweet thunder sings.
crashes. roaring with lyrical tenderness.

oh thunder, but your rain and my tears.
one global cry. internal. external. the child. the leper. the woman. men. together. and me.
and i miss you.