Thunder just crashed. How well the sky knows my heart by now.
The past two days since finishing with the Precept Ministries Boot Camp have passed somewhat dreamily, mostly because I’ve slept much of them away. During camp we had a specified “nap time” every afternoon (a dangerous thing to teach an old man like me), and so yesterday afternoon and today, I felt no qualms at all about stretching out on my bed (with which, you should know, I shared a joyful, tearful reunion Friday night) and letting a few hours of this world pass me by. If I could, I would let more than a few hours of it go.
Thunder again. Yes, I would let the world slip altogether away and not miss it, or so I believe. For all I see around me is escapism, fear, anger, rude arrogance, well-played parts, well-hidden griefs. Smiles do not convince, laughter does not impress. Such is the cynical voice I hear today, anyway…
But while my spirit cries out that nothing in this world would please me just now, the truth is that this thunder and the sound of the rain on the roof are beautiful. The truth is that I love them. Deep down, I think my strange sad mood is just another simple longing of a human being for understanding and to be understood–and the thunder knows. The rain whispers confidently in its understanding.
I wish it would rain all night long.