I feel the power of it all, this storm.
I see the end of the field, the trees there.
They wave in the wind, they wave so hard that they almost fall in this storm, this storm unlike any other. It is the storm of the century, they say, this storm that shakes the very earth where I sit.
I am under the canopy of an especially strong tree, and I sit, despondent and wondering. Wondering if it all will cease or if it would continue on past this fitful night.
Still, I sit. I am not brave but maybe not brave enough.
I am wide-eyed at first, then all of a sudden calm.
It washes over me, this calmness, and I feel peace or something like it, talking to me, and strange as it is, I have no choice but to give in to it, to this power greater than I.
To relinquish it all to whatever it is out there controlling the skies and controlling me.
And the rain breaks through what I thought nothing could break through.
It washes me clean, it washes me all clean.
