I clawed through my denim hide, muddied beyond recognition. Then the cotton casing, wet and black. I stripped completely to expose my human skin. I spun and twirled to the ricochet of thunder booming through the valley, slinging water droplets like magic fire from my fingertips. I skipped and ...
Can you take the storm and gather each raging droplet in a melody of joy, feeling the cyclone soak into your skin, soothed by its rushing roar? Can you allow the truth to shake you to the very core of your being without moving to hold on?