perfect storm

The clouds swell with expectation. Sonorous rumblings tremble through the air with heaviness. Heaven's forks of light sear their imprints on the charcoal backdrop.

A storm is brewing.

My brown eyes search the skies for the storm front. While others hastily prepare for the fallout, I stand motionless - awestruck by the wonders of our Creator. I turn my back on the diminishing blue patchwork and pour my whole self into the anticipation of the dark release.
Storms hypnotize me.

I am grounded by the strong winds, lit up by the darkness and energized by the thunder. I swallow the scent of rain and wrap my senses around the crisp, white sheets of lightening. My soul dances on the toes of the rain's patter.

The blusterous low pressure system piggybacks my own pressures onto their rolling fronts - angrily banging and crashing until their tantrums are dissipated into harmless white whisps that God's quill pen scrawled across the spherical canvas.

His cleansing signature displayed in a love note written just for me.

{photo credit: Ryan Shippelt @ http://www.shippelt.com/}