i discovered a piece of writing from perhaps a year ago or so, it was inspired by a thunderstorm. this discovery happens to be timely because of the storms that have been rolling through here within the past week. i have moved (abodes) since i wrote this piece and at my current cabin the thunder booms so intensely that i have to convince myself it’s not actually taking place in my living room, or on the deck. the depth of these booms are enough to shake my body, or spirit, or anything else for that matter.
as a child i was always fascinated by storms, by the smell of the air and its texture, by the colors of the sky, the weird lights or tones storms bring, by the flashes of light and how close the booms followed, by the feeling of the wetness in the air that was almost tastable. i used to stand with my face pressed against the screen of the door, soaking in all of its sensation, or sneak out to run full length of the old porch and get licked by the flying particles of rain. i loved storms, i still love storms. there’s something about the energy of a storm, something about their beauty and devastation and the life they bring through rain, something about the connection of all these attributes. these are the things i love about life now; the thrill of unexpectivity; the green shoots that spring up after thunder booms; making it through difficult, hiding in the basement situations; making it through huddling up next to other people in the same boat as you. it resembles the beauty of spring or the sweetness of mornings. it’s when the spirit behind the universe says, okay, life is still moving on, are you coming, let’s walk hand in hand together.
this piece actually evolved in an e-mail, alas i titled it Good morning beautiful~
It’s storming here, the beautiful kind, when the sky lights up like the forth of july and the thunder booms like a race car hitting a brick wall. the wind is swirly and racing like a marathon runner and the raindrops come in torrents like a moody teenager. my favorite part is the storm’s thick and chilling, soothing and almost singing, breath, that breathes through you as you run out inside of it, only to get away again. it is alive, as much alive as a newborn baby crying, finding its voice, as much alive as the treetops and the leaves, everswaying and ever saying in their own language, the meaning of the universe. i hear it, in the stillness of the moment, stark, against the movement of the atoms. it is calling, and i am answering, in a verse quite similar, our own, distinct. the sound of the space giving way to a tremor. it moves. connecting and dividing. it is one with me, one me one meone eon and eons of finding, and here it rests, to be still to hear and listen, an equanimity in the midst of precariousness.
............................................~hello world, i love you~ 