Voices are Thunderbolts

I cower, cover tender ears,
still the thunderbolt noise breaks through all.
Ma shelters me, I feel her tremble in fear.
His lightening splits flesh, bones, walls.

Bravely we ride the storm,
in our vessel with holes.
Ma whispers,"we're alive and warm."
A victory accomplished by strong souls.

Angels should teach voice lessons.
Words hurt almost more than a fist.
God needs to talk about weapons.
But I think love should be first on His list.

I am a good girl, do what I am told,
why do you hurt me? I will listen and hear.
I cry quietly. He says, "Sorry, I love you".
As if it makes bruises disappear.

The day will come, I will flee.
I tell Ma, but her frightened feet
are rooted to Mother Earth, like a tree.
His powerful blows shadow her weak flight.

One day, Ma's body might just fade away.
If she hadn't been beaten down so long,
my Ma could say, "have purpose, don't stray.
Keep your mind sharp and faith strong."

The next time mean voices turn to me,
like Mercury, with majestic winged feet,
I will not hide. I can flee.
No evil monster will tear, pummel or kill me.

I have learned from horrific lessons.
That mean only climbs so high.
As I leave violent storms behind,
a rainbow of promises paint a free sky.



By Kathie Stehr
edited May 15, 2010