Summer's Thunderstorms

Right. There is a raging thunderstorm outside. A strong, angry, powerful thunderstorm. And as heavy sheets of rain continue to pound heavily on the roof, the noise drowns my foggy mind as I struggled further to give light and meaning to my current emotional dilemma. I sat by the window in my third floor office and watched as the wildness went on outside. And while the thunderstorm unleashed its power, another thunderstorm continues to rage somewhere, deep in the tiniest spaces of my mind.

I watched the rain as it raged on. I watched as water poured in a rush from above in a fitful state, somewhat frenzied, like shattered glass. And like the soil below now soft because of the rain, I gave in. I let the overwhelming power rage on inside. I acquiesced to it. And it felt good. It felt good to give in. It felt good to have a finality, a conviction, an end. A surrender. It felt good to be free. Liberated, at last.

Outside, the skies began to clear, bringing the thunderstorm to a halt. It's funny how abruptly it stopped as wildly as it started. Then again, little droplets of rain continued to fall.