A Summer Storm

You say that she is peaceful
and sometimes she is,
but tonight,
she reached down with
fiery fingers,
splitting the skies —
a weapon of Nemesis
setting fire
to the black night,
fingernails like daggers
tearing at the earth.
Sometimes, she is peaceful
but tonight I saw
her fury.

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Se dice que ella es pacifica
y a veces es así,
pero esta noche
ella se bajó
los dedos de fuego,
dividiendo los cielos —
una arma de Némesis
incendiandose
la noche oscura,
uñas como dagas
desgarrando la tierra.
A veces, ella es pacifica
pero esta noche, yo ví
su furia.

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2 responses to “A Summer Storm

  1. Thank you for sharing that with me, Carlos. I read through these poems several times, and each time, I took away something different. His poetry is almost ethereal, although perhaps that is because he was retelling a dream. Here was my favorite stanza:

    El alma del poeta
    se orienta hacia el misterio.
    Sólo el poeta puede
    mirar lo que está lejos
    dentro del alma, en turbio
    y mago sol envuelto.

    How true that is! It is not enough to see a garden of roses, for a single rose is a metaphor for the deeper mysteries of the human spirit (growth, rebirth, beauty, shyness, charisma, true love, aging, death). We writers never see the rose for a rose. We are, in a sense, the guardians of human passion and mystery, and it is our duty and honor to turn the ordinary into a mirror, so that the world can see the reflection of their souls in our words.

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