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Of all the sounds that frame my hearing
nothing stirs me like thunder in the morning
sends me to a preternatural state of hope
compensates in ways I don't expect,
a gift from a cosmos I can only imagine.
I remember lilies around the walnut tree
the last thing I saw before sleep.
I hear birds singing through raindrops,
the swoop of wind through April leaves.
The world I manage is often parched,
athirst with wrongheaded desire,
dusty souls in need of a good stirring.
From Margaritas & Redfish (Lamar UP, 2013).
Used here with the author's permission.
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Ken Hada is a professor at East Central University in Ada, Oklahoma, and hosts a weekly podcast, "The Sunday Poems." Author of ten books, the latest being Come Before Winter, his 2021 book, Contour Feathers, received the Oklahoma book Award. Ken's work has also received awards from Western Writers of America and the National Western Heritage Museum. Raised in the rural Ozarks, he enjoys hiking, flyfishing, and kayaking. Learn more about Ken at www.kenhada.org.
          
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barbsteff:
Ah, I remember the promise of thunder in the morning. Good poem, thanks!
Posted 04/08/2017 01:38 PM
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Michael:
Thank you, Ken--nicely done. Like "lilies around the walnut tree"--Michael
Posted 04/06/2017 12:04 PM
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Maryann Hurtt:
Yes, dusty souls. Have a great Scissortail, Ken. Wish I could be there.
Posted 04/06/2017 10:14 AM
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cork:
Beautiful balance!
Posted 04/06/2017 08:52 AM
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David:
So nice. Excellent use of language and imagery.
Posted 04/06/2017 08:49 AM
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