From your youngest of days you stare at the sky, You watch as the birds take wing
You dream that one day you'll be able to fly, And you'll know why they all want to sing

Top grunts, "C.O. wants to see you," , You think to yourself, "not again,"
"Reporting as ordered," you hold your salute, "At ease," he says with a grin

"You're going!" he says.  "Going where, sir?" you ask.  "To Flight school!  Dismissed!  Go get packed!"
"Yes, sir!" You salute. You back out his door, You think, "Someone upstairs must have cracked!"

Through Rucker's gate you cannot wait, Deep in your chest it pounds
For never again will foe or friend, See you tethered to the ground

Autorotations, lift and thrust, Checklists of every kind
So much info flung your way, They must mean to snap your mind

From pinnacles to 50 ft. AGL, From slings to Nap of the earth
Hydraulics off, Drop, Yank and Flair, The school will soon give birth

Graduation day from the grandstands they peer, Your family and friends have come
They hear you coming from the east, A wave of Thunder from the Sun.

The first birds appear above the trees, A gasp comes up from the stands
With tears of pride as you all soar by, Their Liberty now in your hands

Now tears of pain are falling, To the battlefields you are bound
You cradle their face onto your chest, "I'll be back soon," you vow

Dodging murderous flak in a Medi-Vac, To pull all the injured out
Thundering out of the sun they come in as one,"HERE THEY COME!" all the ground troops shout!

The Gunships come in waves now led, By scouts above the trees
The rockets fly, the mike-mikes blaze, The bad guys are on their knees

From somewhere near an RPG, Tears through your wingman's tail
On his way down this warrior fires, His mission he will not fail

His last round takes out the last of those, Who would take on America's best
His last breath takes him homeward now, His brothers will do the rest

You're standing with his family,  And you feel it before you hear
A tremor through the ground, Beneath your feet as something draws near

The lump jumps up into your throat, For from the East they come
Iron horses rumbling into view, Thunder from the sun

The Guard will escort your Hero home, Out to his final post
With flags stretched taut by a chilling wind, And more respect than most

For many of them have been there too, And all vow Never Again
Would anyone show any disrespect, For returning women and men

Our troops, our sons, our daughters, Our mothers and fathers, all
The ones who bore the burden, When our leaders made the call

They are so much like us flyboys, They've got our six, of this, have no doubt
They'll bring us home and you'll not be alone, It's what Patriots are about

Look to the skies where I use to fly, When this warrior's days are done
And listen for the sound We make, 

Thunder from the Sun

Dedicated to Jason, Keith and all the men and women who have given all while beating the air into submission.