- Music: The Chill Wind by Llewllyn
- Weather: Thunderstorm
It's 10:30am Monday morning, and the window directly behind me is open at a 45° angle. I'm at the office, and my energy is very low today. I can barely focus on anything. Do I even want to?
Suddenly ~ the skies have turned dark, and the sounds of distant thunder fill the empty spaces between skyscrapers. A chill rushes up my arms and across my back, and transports me somewhere else ~ a spiritual recharge from nature, herself, is eminent. I love thunderstorms. The rains come quickly... and beautifully. The breeze washing over me is now carrying a soft mist... a mist that's calling me to leave my desk, and rush outside and dance under the thunder and lightning. I want to go. I want to run. I want to get soaked.
I close my eyes, and I can see a field beneath me... wet grass beneath my toes, beneath the stormlord's clouds of grey. The breeze pushes around the papers across my desk. I don't care. They're nothing. Why am I inside? Thunder. Can you hear it too? Thunder. Rain. My arms are covered in goosebumps. Covered. Chango ~ God of Thunder calls to his Carribbean children. Carribbean blood. Tribal blood. Drums and Thunder. I can smell smoke. Campfire. Bonfire. Dance. Dance. Dance.
Free. Be free. Dance free. Fly free. Dance free in the rain. Dance.
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