I am willing the thunder
the sky is grey
the rain falls steadily
I am willing the thunder
it's all turning
back into my hands

I told him my powers had returned
I was not wrong

the guitar fell away
to be replaced by something real
something I had not held since I was sixteen

it is not enought to feel pain
I have greived for the dead and dying
it left me paraylsed
instead,
it is in hunger and yearning
in aching and longing
that electricity flows back into the veins
spread out now in a flash
across the straining sky
so soon there will be thunder

the wood pigeon flies away
there is a creak from the floors above
the girl comes calling
I pour out another cup
the thunder is coming
it is now just a matter of will
there is movement in the branches
Rachel, my Hebrew heart,
I am being rebuilt