Sky Island Storm

The moment the heat cracks open
a white shock runs
through the forest and sycamores
stand beside their own souls
as they fly between
pines and oaks
faster than the stream can follow
on its bed of dancing stones.
The peaceful trails
lift and twist
and settle back down
as thunder calls them to. The high peaks
hold on to lightning. The forest
birdsong becomes a breath
held in waiting, as rain sings
to the leaves and the leaves
ring the time
until green is green again,
the vultures offer their backs to the sun,
and light returns as runoff
from the last electric flash.

David Chorlton