I need the first true storm of the winter season. I crave it. I don't mean the piddly little rains that have been happening, although I'm grateful for those. I mean the first true storm. Lightning, thunder, raging wind. The first fierce storm. I need the sheer release that such a storm will bring me. I need the wild rage of nature around me. All that prevents me from taking off and heading up into the mountains to go where I know that I could find that kind of storm is the fact that it would worry too many people. I fear not even slightly for my own safety, because I know that the storm would soothe something inside of me that's been raging too long.
So I wait. Impatiently, for the first good storm of the season to come down from the mountains, into the valley, and unleash here.
Let the rains fall. Let the winds shriek cacophony around me. Let the heavens flash above and the thunder shake the ground. Let the storm rage, unchecked.
And let my soul be soothed, finally. Let the rage be calmed and let it all go to silence inside of me.
Somehow, someway, there has to be a release from this. And if the best I can get is from the storms, let them come. Let them free me.
I need to be free.
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