There is beauty in a storm that drowns out all sound amidst it. It darkens the sky so it can dance in the light of a street lamp. A storm, a proper storm, isnt just stunning in its beauty. A storm makes all who experience it stop, even if only for a moment, and admire it. Whether in awe, fear, or respect none can help but to take pause.
Tonight my soul feels soothed by the beautiful performance that the skies give tonight. My heart sings only as it does on rare occasions when no pains of this world can touch me, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, or moral. Yet even as the storm falls silent, its piece drawing to a close, I feel a sadness returning to my soul that I rarely notice. It drags at my body like a weight in my bones. It reminds me that life is hard but all the more worth it for the moments when my soul gets the chance to dance with the rain.
Many people can dance with the feet, with their hands, with their body. I cannot. How many of you, though, can dance with your soul? How many of you can dance with the rain? That, I can. It is no small thing.
Tonight my soul feels soothed by the beautiful performance that the skies give tonight. My heart sings only as it does on rare occasions when no pains of this world can touch me, be it physical, emotional, spiritual, or moral. Yet even as the storm falls silent, its piece drawing to a close, I feel a sadness returning to my soul that I rarely notice. It drags at my body like a weight in my bones. It reminds me that life is hard but all the more worth it for the moments when my soul gets the chance to dance with the rain.
Many people can dance with the feet, with their hands, with their body. I cannot. How many of you, though, can dance with your soul? How many of you can dance with the rain? That, I can. It is no small thing.