full-moon lunacy in the heavens
lightning bolts being tossed like javelins
thunder rolling from there to there then
cracking, smacking, crunching the air
and the earth trembling
and then – release:
rain, in huge drops, splattering, bouncing rain
hour upon luscious hour
heaven is right here!
how can one describe wetness on skin
quenched thirst on tongue
damp earth-fragrance in nostrils?
likewise, heaven defies description
it is here, it is here!
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 . . .