Nexus

The cacophonous crashing of thundercloud cadence

rolling over and through 

the boy frightened him, 

and war drums fell-- 

although he hid himself, and buried reverberations within,

until love cast itself upon his fear,

with a tender, "There, there." 

Later, he lies down upon the grass

the blades are crushed and the edges of the air

are softer now--

looking and longing to be struck,

lightning leaps between the 

super-heated spinning summer sky.

Still afraid, he falls asleep.

And then, within, the spark finds

its mark, ignites the dark and tepid heart

which hid from pain and refused to see

the crystalline convergence,

the nexus of connection,

the miraculous equation:

"This energy has always been;

the thunderbolt had to happen,

It has always been on its way.

It has already struck me.

It will always energize my soul.

It has already disintegrated my body.

I receive it.

I am glad."