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The storm heat built up all afternoon and by early evening could contain itself no more. It exploded in a fury of whip-cracking rolling crashing thunder, massive sheets of lightning, torrents of rain. The parched earth was waiting with open arms.
Sleep was impossible; the action was too intense, loud, immediate.
Folded up on my zafu, thunderbolts flying clear through my body, lightning exploding from my head, I am a character in a Tibetan drama.
Until the door chimes bring me back to the theater of suburbia, Australian-style.
With every lightning strike they burst into a merry tinsel-town tune – a different one each time. Very odd really, since they were disconnected from mains power months ago. There must be a little battery inside with a trace of energy that recognizes the energy of the lightning bolt . . .
~
echoes from emptiness 
Nothing like sudden, violent (better, energetic) cosmic phenomena to bring you to the present moment in no time. A wake up call!
Wideawakeness endlessly waking ITself up in ITs infinite guises!
Emaho!
~ ml
OH!!! Dearest ML…There are some chimes here too that have one of those Trace Energy Batteries built right in. Goes straight to this heart — by-passes the whole nine yards. 🙂 ♥
Is that what they are called – Trace Energy Batteries? Amazing.
Especially when I look at what was scribbled the next morning – which will be posted tomorrow …
Watch this space! 🙂
Thank you for commenting – enthusiastically and wittily, as always.
♥
~ ml
I am laughing out loud at this one! The image is just too much! Hopefully my “trace battery” will remember soon, and those chimes will ring once again! Love it dear ml! C
It made she-who-scribbles cackle too!
I love your enso …
🙂
~ ml