Thunderstorm (a rambling of sorts)

i revel in the trope of a thunderstorm. because i love thunderstorms. but i had forgotten that.

i LOVE thunderstorms. in nature i mean. the real ones, wild ones, terrible ones. all of that power and movement, I find fierce, forceful, and free.

waves and water rising, roaring, crashing, pouring;

wind and tempest slapping and snatching, whipping and thrusting;

thunder with deafening barrage - cracks, and strikes and claps that I feel shock and shell my heart, reverberating in the vigorous beats against my breast, leaving me gasping in paralyzing awe and dazzled wonder.

i had forgotten that I loved the thunderstorm.

because when i was looked at the chaos in my life, i saw myself a chassis flung and thrashed around by the storm. a storm that was triggered by the loss of relationships, loved ones, and a home in recent months. a storm I had tried to restrain, to tie up and bury in the nether regions of optimism and positivity.

but the thunderstorm remained true to itself, unable to be held back, and now i saw it hunt and hound me,

flailing me against every stone wall,

writhing me in thick convoluted branches,

drowning me in deep lifeless waters and

dragging me through miry rocky wastelands as a triumphant traducer.

i was overcome and failing. defeated, blind, parched and dry, i crawled through every day wondering when my last breath would be released from this beaten corpse, longing for the day of my depart from this god-forsaken torment of a world.

but they reminded me that i loved the thunderstorm. and why i did. they awoke in me that feeling in my heart that they knew more than anyone. the paralyzing awe, the terrifying wonder, the terrorizing beauty and the undeniable safety and security i felt in the thunderstorm. they reminded me how i relished the feeling of being utterly powerless against an overpowering fury. how i savored the naked vulnerability and helplessness before this dangerous outburst. how i loved to watch the power in a thunderstorm - rising and falling, destroying and creating - the end of one roar begun another, the crash of one wave fueled another, the sharp slap of one gust charged another. the energy and dynamism of this raw untamed beast, how it enchanted and thrilled my being. how it reminded me of him.

i love the thunderstorm because of its power. and as I looked at my life stormed by loss, meaninglessness and chaos; how could I now not see that it was the thunderstorm i have always loved? the fury i had always lost and found myself in, feeling utterly helpless, unquestionably safe, and in perfect peace. the power that fills and empties me, that breaks and remakes me, the force that drives everything i create. how could i not recognize the one i love? how could i not see him reach out his hand as ask me to the dance?

to ravish and rage in the wild tides and hurricanes;

to wrestle new birth out of messy, pain-filled devastation, and carve out new life on the wounds and aches of departed ones;

to declare freedom with every shattered chain and new power with every broken stronghold;

to build up new towers from wrecked, forgotten ruins and to forge new tools from the rust of gutted spaces;

to straighten gnarled contorted branches and sprout new gardens in miry rocky wastelands; to proclaim hope in the god-forsaken torment and 

to press into this vivacious dance

to make and be made;

to be filled and held; 

to be adored and loved;

in the howling madness of the thunderstorm