Clouds, their condensation water streaking from the sky, dripping ecstatic lullabies across the grace of nature and my face.
Clouds, their condensation water streaking from the sky, dripping ecstatic lullabies across the grace of nature and my face.
My feet crescendo with the rain.
Thunder splits the sky, rain beats the dust down, and smoke whispers through the dark. The storm comes as cleansing, as consecration.