6.12.2023 - Reliquary of Lightning

6.12.2023
Reliquary of Lightning

Gray and snarling was the sky,
Yet no rain kissed the windows.
Lightning can strike miles from a storm.
Glass shatters and frame chars,
Seared brightness burns,
Acrid tang of ozone and singed hair,
Whisps of smoke burning the salt,
From sandals across the room.
Carry that freeze frame,
The blessing of Lightning,
The curse of the burn,
Framed now in glass and oak.
A relic of divine power,
An afterimage of the storm,
The pulse bound in the retinas.
In the flesh, the power is stored,
The body a rod and bones a summons,
Calling again to the sky,
Pending another bolt.
Reliquary of ashes,
Covenant of electricity,
I never heard the thunder.