I. first

a whisper of thunder woke the forest.
one low caress of sound pulled warm dew to trembling grass,
sowed a symphony into the soil
and coaxed the flowers to
burst.

fingers of lightning banished the penumbra,
wrapping their soft fire around trunks and twigs,
achingly singeing thin bark to ash
and licking the trees into flame.

II. then

roots unraveled underfoot,
damp soil shivering like cello strings;
buds collapsed in showers of green dust,
choked by young smoke--

III. and

ancient roots
divorce
the dirt,
tangling clusters with
webs of lightning

thick branches crack and
crash
obliterating
the gentlest creatures,
sparks of life consumed
by hotter
fires

but the wind straps you on her back
and carries you away,
leaving the forest to die and burn.

IV. finally

suffering fireflies reflect the inferno
and, when the final flames extinguish,
illuminate the palimpsest of scorched soil
left behind for the next lover.