As the storm rages around me, I feel its power coursing through me. I feel as if I can do anything. I am one with the storm. I can feel its moods, as if it is built in layers. The very edges of my being tingle. I feel its crazy energy, its wild untameable exuberance. Human speech is incapable of describing it, capturing its pure essence and bottling it up. As soon as you think it’s over, in that little lull of time as it builds up its power. The ends of my nerves pulse with this power, this indescribable energy. I am kept together by its winds. They press me from all sides, these chaotic wild winds, free to blow however they wish. The rain washes over me. Lightning crackles around me, ignoring me, as if it recognises me as one of its own.

     And I am.

     The storm fills me, consumes me, making me one with it. I care not for the danger around me. I ride the edge. The blade of life and death, sanity and madness. The blade of heaven and hell. I feel its innocent power playing its game of destruction. Its laughter is in the thunder. The clouds above roll over each other, tumbling and playing as they journey where they will. It is in this fierce wild love, that I lose myself. The storm and me. Me and the storm. Two names for one thing. This love requires nothing of me. It doesn’t demand submission. It doesn’t need me to love it. It needs nothing I can give it. This simple love will allow me to join it. It will not be angry at my leaving it, nor will it mourn me. As I tap into it’s being, I lose my sense of self, as I am swept away by its power. I scream with the wind. My nerves are taut with lightning. My blood is the rain. My voice the thunder. My body is the clouds. I am the storm. Then as suddenly as it has begun, it stops. I am sent hurtling back to my own body, to become disorientated when I wake. As I open my eyes, I see the departing storm, its boundless, reckless exuberant love and energy, going on to others. Beams of sunlight play across the field, from my vantage from the top of the hill. Yet the storm remains. It’s thunder is in my heartbeats. It’s winds are my breath. It’s rain is in my blood. Its lightning in every movement that I make. Its cloud in my flesh. I am the storm. Nothing will ever change this. As I turn my back on it’s departure, I know in my heart, that it will come again.