Monday, April 01, 2013

Stormy Waters

I haven't seen a storm this size in this city. Back home in the hills, we have these every season. Ma used to say that this storm will leave only after destroying something. And destroy it did, it ripped things apart, fell trees, taken away frail roofs in its wake.

But I loved the storm then. I love the storm now. I love the drama of its thunder, its lightning, its memory of once when the lightning came inside and struck a phone line in the living room.

Beyond the storm is a new-ity, a fresh earth, an innocence of a bird, a song, a breeze. How could I fear the storm when it always gave me a new day on the other side?

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