There's a storm coming.
Darkness streaked with light. The wind whistles in the trees around you, and you feel, if only for a few brief seconds, as if it will catch you up in its arms.
And then the rain comes. Just a few drops at first; the heralds, bringing fair warning of the deluge to come. But not much warning. Only a minute or two more, and then the heavens open. The fury and the anger that is a thunderstorm crashes and flares around you. The might of the heavens above, sent down in the form of rain, and thunder, and lightning, that we might know how small we truly are.
I think I'll go outside and watch it come in.
It calls, you know.
Posted by Ardith at March 21, 2004 01:20 AM | TrackBack