There was lots of lightning and little rain,
Lying with my son near an open window,
Spring wafting soiled scents like pheromones
Under noses of all kinds of little creatures,
Chris looking up like a plant bending toward the sun,

Exclaiming God must have made us all at once,
Beaming us down here at different times,
His heart resting hard between the beats;
That when we hug, our hearts are joined--
One great big beating one-- always beating...

When the rain started and the lightning stopped,
His face shone like the whitest sun,
Asking if he would grow brighter and bolder,
Smarter, older. But he couldn't hear my anwser--
The muffled chord over all the thunder,
Under all that pounded, under all that poured.