Uneasy my spirit beneath a gray, heavy sky
As I stand beneath the clouds and feel the wind pull my hair,
watching the clouds move, churning as the storm nears,
heavy and dark the clouds, their shapes carved by the wind –
water and air intersect to be come something amazing.
I lift up my arms to you, O Heavens,
feeling the excitement of the moment approaching,
watching the clouds race ever nearer
as I remember tales of the storm gods
standing proud in their power and panoply,
Zeus, and Thor and Raijin,
The Winged Sacred –
ah, so many titles we have given
to something so much more powerful than us
as we watch the lightning crash,
feel the thunder rumble
the wind whip across the land,
hail and rain pound down,
knowing that for all our prowess and control,
our explanations and science,
Zeus' thunderbolt still awes our psyche.
My spirit eases beneath a gray, heavy sky
As the cold wind, signal the nearness of the storm front,
begins to blow as the first drops fall and the thunder rumbles.
Blow winds, blow!
Remind us once again of what we are not.