SUNDAY MORNING THUNDER STORM
Storm clouds gather. The sound of thunder is distant, but I can feel its growing churn in the air. Restlessness grips me. The [tick] [tick] of the battery-operated clock lulls me into a passive state. The mark of time standing still in that instant.
Outside the musty dirt-smell of the rain grows; dots of wetness appearing to well-up out of the sidewalk. Thunder cracks. Lightening flashes. I jump. The world reverberates, as the heavens unleash a flood.
The rotating rock of the spin cycle adds its domestic rhythm to the sounds of the day. It serves to remind me that life cycles bringing about change for a season. Washing out the old; making room for the new. Life to death; death to life. Season to season. Nothing is permanent, but change itself.
Cup of coffee in hand, I sit down with my laptop to write. The music of life my symphony. I am grateful for the gift of imagination. I am grateful for the rising and setting of the sun. In this moment, life goes on and the thunder booms for this season of my life.
© Juneta Key 2014