Wind and rain

As I walked home it began to rain. Huge drops fell out of the sky, soaking my shirt, running down my back, making me cold and awake. They woke the warm earth. Thirsty roots sucked at it, myriads of mouths pulling the sweet water into themselves, stirring into new life. New life coming from above.

Then, as suddenly, the wind woke up, drove off the storm cloud, and in the moonless sky star after star came, specks glinting like dust in a light beam, or flames blazing like newly trimmed lamps. Our ancestors thought they were lamps. We know better. We know they are distant balls of fire. The numbers astound. The distance is beyond the mind to measure. Is his ‘above’ like that? A wind which blows from the stars, and a spirit as immense as the space between the stars? I thought of a new life as cold and quenching as sudden rain, as terrifying as star space.

I saw the warm glow of lamplight from my own doorway, and wondered if that was still what I wanted.

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