Music: A Summer Storm Playlist 

 

The night passed into calm and while the couple had just drifted asleep, tangled with one another as they were upon the bed. The wind would begin to whistle with more pressing insistence through the trees, branches reaching for the wind to capture it in a delicate embrace. Upon its sighs and whispers was the scent of rain. Sharp and heavy. Intoxicating in its promise. 

 

It mingled with the gentle scent of the sea and the woodsmoke of the fires that had died down long ago adding a calm to the land that would force an unknown hush over it. No creature seemed to stir as all held their breath in calm anticipation. There was a solemn weight to the moment as the wind bore upon its back the clouds it sought to deliver. The dark wall blotted out and reached for the stars above as if snuffing each one out, one by one, plunging the sleeping world below into the most profound darkness. 

 

The silent anticipation built as the wind’s whispers turned into confident promises spoken in a language so primal and close to the heart it only compared to the whispers shared between the truest of loves on their deathbeds. The trees trembled under the truth of what it pronounced, sun-soaked summer leaves dancing in jubilation while the grass rippled in great waving sheets under the power of the wind’s command- no different than the churning of the sea. The rustling answered the wind’s call as nature began to hold a conversation; whispered in secret as some great happening was upon the night. 

 

Then a distant rumbling. A booming voice cut through the debate even across so great a distance. The heavy pressure enveloped the sleeping world, wrapping each soul in a caress. For a moment all turned their attention to that inescapable tone. Then the rest of nature took up their conversation again, more fiercely than before as the wind urged on the others, now howling. 

 

The curtains posted around the upper floor of the house snapped with force, fluttering and straining as the wind told them its secret tidings through the windows and balconies which were left open to the summer air. Still, the couple remained unaware that they were to witness such a thing that had all about them buzzing with anticipation. Their only reaction was to pull more closely to one another. 

 

The rumbling cut through again, demanding silence, demanding that all hear it. 

 

Then a new voice came. A cheerful plink. A delicate plop. 

 

Raindrops, let loose from the firmament, a gift to replace the stars that the dark clouds stole, joined in an overwhelming chorus. A beautiful song that started so gently, mingled with the other voices, and continually building moment to moment. An exaltation rising and rising back to the vaulted ceiling of the radiant heavens. 

 

The rain brought the cold in even greater measure than the wind. The splashing droplets broke apart and flew upon the gale to be delivered to the land where it would be most soothing; a balm, a salve, to the damages of the sun’s unforgiving glare. The closeness around each being would constrict, wrapping around each soul like an embrace as the curtains of rain constricted every sight, every sound, every touch to the area just before each being.

 

The darkness upon the land grew deeper, more profound, as the storm unleashed. As promised the wind delivered it unto the house with the impact of a fierce hug from a friend thought dead.

 

Rain crashed, wind howled, foliage shivered, sea roiled, and all those who bore witness waited, enraptured, captivated, in a silence that was perfect only for the breath stolen from their lungs which squeezed at what the ancient language heralded within their unknowing souls. There was another voice they awaited. A silence that would be so profound and so encompassing that it would leave visions in one’s eyes. That silence had been announced, and its coming and would brook no argument against its arrival. All would bow before that display in awe.  

 

Brief illumination cut through the darkness, blinking purplish-white light branched across the sky like a tree’s ancient roots, casting directionless shadows as it lanced the dark clouds from which it was birthed. Silence. All held their breath. The rain frozen in time, the wind stilled, the trembling trees shaking with uncontrollable anticipation. Then the voice all had waited for. 

 

A rolling boom felt deep in the bones as much as in the ears. It spoke, rumbled an ancient pronouncement. 

 

Harken to Me

 

And the world did. Every heart, beast, or natural thing, turned skyward to bear witness. 

 

Another flash, arcing across the darkness and striking distant trees. The herald, the breath of jubilant new life in the heavy rain-soaked gloom. Another pronouncement, ponderous and lengthy, vibrating the air with the grounding solemnity of death tolls.

 

Closer those two conflicting, yet perfectly harmonious, voices came. Silence then roaring. They rushed through the heavy clouds to join with the worship of itself as nature sang as one. For all the world it would seem that the whispering of the wind had brought this fury to witness the couple sleeping in their bed. It settled over the land, churning and swirling in a dance that wove around the music and praise of its own making. 

 

Lightning struck the sea so close at hand, and crashed into the trees near and far. In answering the call of brief illumination, the roaring thunder would vibrate the air in the very lungs of those it called upon. It was an ancient melody that pulled even on the hearts of those sleeping. But not all could sleep through such an irresistible call. The heavy hand which stirred their hearts. 

 

The couple would both stir as the voices of the storm reached out for them, pulling their sleeping minds to wakefulness in the perfect darkness. As the storm had gathered they had shifted as if in response to the ancient language which pulled at their hearts. All beings understood this ancient call that woke the secret parts of them. No matter the differing pasts, differing futures, and differing perceptions- thoughts, emotions, and logic all went still before the all-consuming primal jubilation they were witness to.  Made to obey, made to listen.

 

In some, it inspired fear, fear of the unknown, and of the power that they could never hope to match. In some, it inspired simple, calming awe and they accepted their fate, accepted that some things were even more powerful than the ingenuity and indomitable will of man. 

 

The pair had found themselves still facing one another as they blinked into the darkness, so deep they could hardly see the shadow silhouettes of one another. A roaring command from the heavens shook their bones in greeting to their waking eyes. A demand that they witness this ancient judgment and a confession that the storm was pleased to be witnessed. They didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge one another’s presence. How could they when the overwhelming presence of the storm descended upon them? 

 

In the face of the fury and reckless unbound being that the storm reveled in, the two souls were small, fragile, and so very weak. They were nothing before this storm’s power and rage as lightning crashed into the earth with the shattering force of the heavens. There was no feeling other than awe in the face of the storm’s bellowing roar that called to them, binding them, enslaving them. 

 

Yet the two clung to one another. Not from fear. No, the more their souls listened to the ancient song the more they heard. The more they knew. The storm was for them. A celebration. Both independently, and joined together in their love. 

 

The coming together of nature to bring them an understanding of the immense beauty and power of their individual persons and even more; the joining of their hearts. So profound and so deep was the assurance that they were seen- seen in all that they were, honest and pure as the lightning that broke upon the sands, and yet so worthy of the fury brought to bare around them- it was a feeling that was at the same moment crushing and freeing. Calming and exhilarating. 

 

In this moment time was immeasurable. One could not measure in heartbeats as the thunder so close at hand snatched away that steady beat replacing it with the force of its own will. One could not use breaths because the ancient song of music, cold, and enveloping presence controlled the rise and fall of one’s chest. The storm could have lasted hours, or moments. 

 

Yet no matter the length of time it was cast upon such a small stretch of the world it would forever change the landscape of heart and mind, so impressionable and moldable to the whims of nature.

 

Slowly, so slowly that at first, none knew it was happening, the silent lightning would begin to still. Arcing less frequently as the eye of the storm passed from the couple it had come to praise and on to the next subject of its ardor. The rain turned from hard strikes upon the earth intent on tearing down the world to gentle caresses lightly brushing each blade of grass, each leaf, and each shingle of the roof. The wind’s howling became a murmur, a whisper, a touch so very gentle it touched the mind like a lover’s heartbeat. The cold remained though, wrapping everything in chilled fingers that soothed and awakened the scenes to the fresh, purity of the washed earth. 

 

With an empty ache left behind the storm moved on, thunder sounding in the distance and the rain becoming a misty drizzle left in its wake along with the couple who only now, looked for one another’s eyes in the darkness. Searching to connect in their newly raw state- souls scrubbed and uplifted by the storm