Thunder

Tonight the storms came again.
Long forgotten ancestors telling stories of times past and times yet to come.
They speak with voices that reverberate within my soul.
They speak in tones used to silence excited children but, also in tones that calm and reassure.

Listen now ...

Yes. I can hear tales of ancient wars, of love found, treasure lost, forgiveness for things I do not understand.

I can hear whispers too. Whispers of things yet to be. Times that will change time. Stories of things that will one day be told to children as lore and legend but, have yet to be lived.

Soon the story tellings reach a fevered pitch and become one. One story of what was, what is and what will be, with an ending that shocks the very Night herself.

And now the great spirits call to one another quietly, gently ... forgetting the children below. They break away from the trance of story telling, break away in a long, low rumble. Break away and become a part of the sky once more.

And I am left alone to ponder




Juli
6.2.10