Us in the meadow

Us in the meadow, the seven of us. Six in the leaves and me on the trail. The seven of us catch horses and ride to the jungle. We set up camp. The youngest are in pain. The eldest are in sorrow. Then! Lightning. We have fire, warmth, light, but still pain and sorrow. Better for the warmth and light and if bad enough solved by the fire.
Us back in the meadow, now all of us. The water is clean and we have harnessed the lightning. The pain is real and the sorrow is perfect but now the lightning fuels our departure to someplace further than the horses could take us. With our human pain and our perfect sorrow and the hope of focused, controlled lightning we are off perhaps to a realm of better storms and purer light. We, each of us, leaving a burn mark in the meadow.