Bob Muns gave me a piece of solidified sand formed when lightning hit the beach and fused the sand into a 1″ wide x 4″ long rod. It spoke to me as a poem. Then my mother heard the story and read my poem. Her poem is below mine.
Fossil Lightning
I hold a piece of lightning in my hand.
It is solid, long and round.
Once, it was energy, fierce and proud;
Now it is inert in a cardboard box, merely sand.
The lightning that pierced the beach,
That melted the silicon and such,
Is now (just imagine) within my reach.
For me, it signifies a frozen instant in time
And more;
Much more.
For Robert P. Muns . . . He put the lightning in my hand.
N.B. Bob has passed over in 2022, but I can still hold his gift in my hand, and hold the memories in my heart.
© 1975
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When my mother heard the story and read the above poem, she wrote this one.
You Put the Lightning in My Daughter’s Hand
You put the lightning in my daughter’s hand
And it should bring thunder to my ears
But instead of pandemonium
It seems to calm my fears
For this unforgettable frozen moment in time
The emotion and thoughts imbue
A most satisfying feeling for me.
I’m so glad my daughter has a friend like you.
Thank you Robert Muns
© 1980 by Jeanette Schrimpf Leiter
