Richard Young
I learned to love storms as a young man,
Because storms were all I knew.
Anger and intensity everywhere;
Home daily ripped by lightning flashes
Of unexpected violence and unexplained pain.
I learned to survive on an open sea
Of pain and hostility;
Hiding in the hold among rats that swim in sour bilge,
To avoid the Captain’s insults, or worse, his lash;
Riding out the darkest storms in the bottom of the boat.
But I learned that the deepest hold is not
Where storms are best endured;
Climbing to perch in the highest rigging,
And leaning back to hurl my name at the sky;
I become thunder and lightning, transforming darkness into light.
