Summer Storm

by Ann Boaden

The blast of it
shrivels hope,
drowns faith.
Hard to remember a time when
the lightning gentles,
lays silver on the waves of night,
hangs crystal on the leaves of day,
runs rainbows over
the waking grass.
Hard to believe,
whether we live or die,
that this terrifying, astonishing light
holds us at its heart.
Remember anyway.
Believe anyway.
“Storm,” after Ellsworth Kelly