The storm we just had, which is still receding as I type, was heavenly, in every sense. The rain poured down, the trees were lashed by wind, lightning flashed across a darkened sky and thunder rumbled in the way that reminded me of gods in a bowling alley when I was a child. Water streamed off the roof of the screened porch, where I stood transfixed, in awe.
People talk about storms inside of them in the sense of tempestuous, anxious feelings. This storm was more like a birth, something powerful that brings necessary change, but in an often-unknown direction. It's reverberating in me, blending with Black Prarie and brewing new mysteries.
