Thunder before dawn,
thunder through dawn,
thunder beings they were called.
It had to be a person or animal up there.
Outside, walking to my work shed
the clouds were low, almost black, and turbulent.
You could nearly jump up and touch them.
I love thunder, I could listen to it all day long.
Like birdsong it's the music of the gods.
How in childhood I adored these cloud voices
that could lift me up above my troubles,
far above the birds. I'd look down
at their flying backs, always in circles
because earth is round. What a gift
to have my work shed shudder with thunder.
Jim Harrison
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