Lightning by Patricia (Wourms) Gallagher

She waits atop her luminous crystal pond.
Waits patiently for the electrostatic discharge to connect her to the Hindu gods.
Agni-fire, a place on earth.
Yaya-wind, a place in the air.
Surya-sun, a place in the sky. She
Waits to sing the Vedic songs to Brahma.

Lifting her hands in supplication, throat bare, breasts bare, she tilts her head toward the heavens
and raises her voice,
sings boldly, sings loudly
volume higher and higher,
thunderous enough for the gods to hear.

Waits for the storm that follows, a bolt from the blue, intra-cloud, cloud to cloud,
cloud to ground, it cracks the base, moves along
as like a serpent with forked-lightning tongue,
winding, curling, meandering around her powerful legs,
her supple body, making a direct target of the heart,
moving over her braided, twisted hair
to attach to third eye chakra,
Waits to perceive another cosmic vision beyond the physical.

Tribar symbol on a single arm, 
equivalence of two, positive and negative
energy.

Waits for her power, she sends shockwaves, an inferno into the space below.
Historians claim that fire-gazing meditatum made us human, invigorates our brains.

The flower of the sacred lotus grows out of mud. 
Padmasana.
​
She has blossomed. She is serene, she is formidable, she 
Waits for Savasana.

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About Patricia (Wourms) Gallagher
​I have been writing poetry since I was a teen-ager, but more seriously in recent years. My professional background is in radio and television broadcasting, and I spent many years in marketing and broadcast management. I retired four years ago. This poem was written as part of a 52-week ekphrastic challenge with a close friend and writing partner.