2004-06-09

Today's Storm

And so, the world becomes dark and riddled with the convulsive sobs of rain that strike the coal-hot ground. We tremble at the sight of such force-- such darkness...

We tremble at the sight of our own internal collapse. I am standing in front of evertyhing, yet fail to capture anything that sings truth in this particular instance. The wind blows colder now, and the sky's convulsive cry of pain has turned into one silent sob that floods this place--a storm with raindrops made homogenous by peace.

Thunderclaps roll to release another unknown side of reality. The realness of this situation unveils itsel all too clearly. I can't get something out of my head--a candlelit dream of human hands creating something beyond themselves. Creation is the most beautiful and fragile extension of oneself. The raindrops dance and swirl together to give the appearance of a drenched road peppered with cars whose visible orange-red and white lights beam through this dense ocean of grey that splashes onto the windshield.

The words "how I love thee" run through my thoughts, and I find that I am saying these words to myself--who else would say such words, If not myself?

aeka at 7:46 p.m.