March 04, 2004portentous [storm warning]tonight, something brewed on the horizon. not even two steps out onto my deck forwarned a deliberate shift of the night towards something.... else. primal. powerful. holy.
there's something behind the storm tonight. it's watching from behind the clouds. the world beneath is but a theater. spread naked and raw before midnight eyes gazing across paths swept clean by chill-driven winds.
it waits. patiently. biding infinite time until a single, precise moment. each meditative breath inspiring the next wave of swiftly fleeting touches rushing across the anticipating landscape: a lover's absent caress; a monster's seditious molestation; a god's negligent finger tracing the tickling patterns of absolution across a desert's shifting sands.
it's somewhere behind the western mountains, not yet close enough to blanket the clear night's darkness above. lurking just beyond the range of sight between this valley and the endless pacific ocean. hidden by the roiling clouds that tumble over themselves on a journey towards the heavens, blinding the faithful with their savagely soft grey. a shadowed figure silhouetted by stars and waiting behind an ever-changing curtain. terrifying acts await only the audience hush of barometric pressure dropping enough to loose the chains binding these billowing curtains, releasing celesitial celebrity onto the mortal stage. invisable symphony unleashes crackling streaks of white lightning in premonistic crescendo of thunder's deafening chorus.
the rain clamors its applause, filling so breifly the distance that joins gravid earth and untamed sky.
how the meek will cast themselves towards the horizon's escape in desperation to avoid such tempest attentions. only the strong will chance their destinies in hurricane's growling wake. faces lifted to the skies as if to drink the very lifebreath cradled in the wind's romantic tango of ebb tides. mouths open in homage prayer, filling to drown in the weatherborn courage falling as tearful gifts of a faceless god.
what is it the wind seeks to expose with frozen fingers raking across the land. who does the storm search to drench with relentless blasts of liquid grace. elements working together to carve a new face on the earth's parched crust - leaving behind what we cannot yet name as creation or destruction. are rewards placed as amulets around a warrior's exposed throat.... or do the clouds rain poison to scald sacrificial flesh til nothing is left but the bare spirit of purest earth.
something drives the storm tonight. whipping the wind to mustang's bellowing fury. casting the rains to flash flood across the land. something searches for a treasure hardest to steal from its jealous keeper.
a part of me fears its discovery and yearns to return to living room's comfort.
Posted by Wolf at March 04, 2004 08:44 PM
a part of me aches to ride the wind.
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