A Storm

I remember Ike,
Nickname for Dwight –
Black and white images,
Fatherly voice on the radio,
A President in Washington.

I’ve heard about
D-day in France,
Armistice…
How strange it must have felt,
Watching the boys --
Storming the beaches of France
With all the power and ferocity
The allies could muster,
Taming the suburbs of America
With modular housing,
’55 T-birds
And ’57 chevrolets.
Half a century ago.

Today, I’m looking at Ike,
An angry red army of forces
On infrared weather imaging,
Storming the beaches of Texas
With power and ferocity
That only nature can muster –
Sacking the beachside suburbs,
Sending the boys packing
In their toyotas
And SUV’s.

Ike and Ike.
Icons of history,
Beacons from Camelot,
Doppler images on our cultural radar.

We may wreak chaos in waves of bombs and bullets,
Noxious fumes and plastic bags…
Atom bombs.
We may experience chaos
In the awesome power of thunder and lightning,
The will of the wind and sea
Hurricanes.


Amidst it all,
We long for peace and quiet,
Like heaven.
But the stillness
Is only death and darkness.
We exist
In the cacophony and chaos,
And God is with us…
Alive…
The Light.