Thunder

God strikes the earth with lightning,
And lifts the shade of dawn
With bolts so full and frightening
The wolf weeps on the lawn.

How errant in the morning,
How thoughtless in the eve,
With whipporwillow's warning
Across the blowing sea.

I say,

Speak now: my heart is hearing,
Speak now: my eyes will see
The pale and pallid clearing
The soft yet savage tree;

Its outline burns forever,
Its part, its thread, of me
Speak now, or we shall never
Know thunder's careless dream.