On His Voice

In my dream I heard a voice over the waters;
deep, like thunder 
in the dark sky.


It was powerful 
yet majestic,
it broke to pieces, the oaks and cedars
of the Eastern deciduous forest.


It woke me and I lept from my bed, and 
it captivated me with hot flashes in the sky. 
I heard the voice again, this time it shook
all the hanging picture frames.


When finally, I gathered enough
courage to lift my covers 
I noticed the trees had been twisted clean
and my walls stripped bare.