The cleansing

I love it most when the storm is coming. Something about the gathering of the clouds, the changing of colors in the sky. The wind picking up gently, forming into this natural force. Standing outside with the knowing that in all of your minute-ness you are a part of the vast majesty of divinity’s creation. As the winds pick up, you notice how everything around you surrenders to the calling of clearing out whatever needs clearing out. Leaves and debris on the ground start swirling, as in a choreographed dance production. Birds scatter in flight, trees and other plantations give in, swaying with the power of the greater force of nature. The build-up of the mighty, reaching its point of fruition with the anticipated relief of rain pouring. Relentlessly. Until the sky purges itself to completeness. Refreshing itself into this simple purity. Cleansed off everything that was holding it down. Creating a pristine horizon with beautiful things to arise in the new space created.