let it begin

from time to time we'll hear the thunder speak
the lightning will be brighter than a photo flash
but not enough light to show the thing we seek
enough to hearken the enormous crash
beyond each night and far beyond each day
is empty time awaiting its due measure
here though we have both struggle and affray
and deeply hidden there is trash not treasure
dominate or submit the truth's the same
enough to make one smell the human stale
the thing's halfway between a jest and game
and almost every player is up for sale
still in the night the wind may bring a sign
that in the morning weather will be fine