The Thunder Storm

 Like a monster stomping around

the thunder shook me awake.

Like a frenzied light show at a huge concert

the lighting forced my eyes to open.

I laid there, surrounded by heat, snoring, fur, listening and watching. 

What words do I house in my vocabulary to describe the storm? 

A funny game I play to become a better writer. 

Isn't that what a writer is? Detailing for those who can't? Being attentive for the oblivious? Pausing life so we can see?

So, I began to characterize what I was experiencing:

old gossips passing a juicy story downwind. 

the soft patter of children's feet outside my closed door.

the rumble of the timpani during orchestra practice. 

But it can't be described, can it?  Not really. That's what's so majestic about it. A thing that one cannot find words to adequately depict. 

I failed as a writer, but as a human--I experienced and that's all of the success I need.