Listen: you can hear
the silent thunder gathering
before the clouds unload the loud, rude ring
that stupefies the ear.
Not yet insensate, here
in the slurred rain, you feel each thing
that cannot be becoming, thickening
from nothing, drawing near.
What world is this, that streams
with solid fog? What empty glut
of all just as it seems?
And, when real thunder fills
the sky, and these things vanish—what?
It is your mind that stills.
From: https://www.sequestrum.org/three-poems-by-aaron-novick
Date: 2020
By: Aaron Novick (19??- )