Silent lightnings flashing forth
From a hazy womb of cloud–
Mute cries of light.
Instant white, bright, flickers of pain,
Momentary scarlet seams,
As if of the anguish of a nebula,
The toil of eons and of primal fire,
Morphed to a moment.
A series of eerie splendors
That rise from the heat-thick dark to glimmer and glower,
To taste the air with quick, crooked snakes’ tongues.
Oh, the silent and hammering light.
Fire born of water,
Vapor-sparked flames,
Beat away at the night.
Your cloud comes not here.