Distant Thunder: A Poem

The sky lay leaden over the day;

And that day, for him, was the last there would be.

Like a panther, he bristled with inner fury…

And knew the long road that lay head was narrow

But the thunder drove him on.

Into the sleek, black lining of a coffin he strode,

Resolute, unyielding—unshakeable as a ship’s mast in a gale

Threw wide the coffin’s doors to see his maker….

And made known to the masters he had bled for

That he would never be their thrall again

And the thunder drove him on.

Met with only silence

He crawled from that grave,

Beaming in the sun of new renewal and new life

And drew his first breath in years…so, so many years…

It was sweet, and warm and as gentle as a breeze’s kiss

But, all at once, like some distant harbinger,

the thunder took it away

and he began his long road home

As he arrived at the doorway of his new life,

He sprang, again, like a great panther who had seen it prize

And entered his final coffin…

This one had been made as a refuge, calming and quiet

Personal and anchoring—no memories from that other place….

Like a vault against his world

But he could not stay—he was to crawl from it too….

And never look back

Only forward

To a place of true peace where he left his pain behind

To never harm another nor make himself a slave

And the thunder drove him on

But –the thunder took another form

It rang inside his head;

He saw the world spin away from him

And felt as one who’s dead…

He span and twisted through time and space

And grasped for his world now gone

To wake only in a strange new place….

But the thunder drove him on.

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