Thunder
It’s late...I hear thunder in the distance.
I haven’t been blinded by lighting yet...this evening (I’ve been blinded often in the past). The storm will come. I feel it.
And there you have it. Storms come. Storms go. Some wreak havoc. Some terrify. Storms are storms. They are what they are and they do what they do.
They’re not much different from all the other notable events in our lives.
A storm is clawing towards me. I feel it.
I also know this: Come Sunday, I’ll twirl my clock’s hands forward one full hour. I’ll revel in the sunlight and the day. I’ll breathe a sigh of relief. I’ll tilt my head to the sky (no small feat given that I’ve suffered a murderously painful slipped disc in my lower neck just days ago), and I will sing “Hallelujah”!
I’ll prolly be in pain. Despite that, I’ll be earnest.
And grateful
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And grateful
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posted by Jonas | 3/13/2010 12:44:00 AM
20 Comments:
The visceral joy I feel from thunder and lightning is something some don't understand.... but the awesomeness of that power, with absolutely nothing able to stop it, is almost overwhelming but undeniably attractive, like a moth to a flame.
It will be a while before we have thunder and lightning here... still too wintery, although gradually becoming more springish.
Storms... are storms... Right now I feel that I may be standing in the eye of a storm... but I don't know if this storm will be terrifying or electrifying... I need to step forward to check the tempest.
I hope your neck settles quickly... have you gone for physio? It helps... I speak from experience.
PS - I love that version of 'Hallelujah'... thanks!
I love that song. I live the storms, their danger and energy...raw power. I find something there I need.
I wasn't prepared to like this version of Hallelujah as much as I did because I'm so sold on k.d. lang's version, but they provided a reverence I could really appreciate.
Clawing storms. Atmospheric pressure. Yes, I know what you mean. Mom's on hospice now and I feel the gathering.
With your (psychic) permission, I'm going to do distance Reiki on your neck. I'm taking your sitting-in-the-chair picture and working on it as if you were here, I'm just that weird.
Storms come and go, they are what they are and they do what they do... such is the wonder of being alive!!
tomorrow will be a new day and the storm will only be a memory..
loveNlight
Gabi
I feel I must apologize for being so remiss in responding to the comments you've posted (regarding this and previous posts). I'm sorry. I just gotta say that I'm a little freaked out by the pain I've experienced for more than a week now. I can barely raise my right arm past shoulder level. My fingers tingle and my shoulder throbs. The pain has kept me awake for nights on end. What started out as a "crick in the neck" has morphed into something I've never experienced before. The pain is unrelenting. It truly hurts to sit and type. I keep hoping it'll pass.
It hasn't.
So be it.
I'm delighted to find fellow "storm groupies"! I do loves me a righteous thunderstorm. Thunderstorm spitting out golf ball-sized hail? Not so much.
I'm rather smitten by Leonard Cohen's entire body of work. He's a most compelling poet/songwriter, no? I can't even count the number of covers I've heard of "Hallelujah" that have enthralled me.
Ah, Kass, thanks for the "virtual" Reiki! I appreciate the thought (by the by, it's not weird, it's sweet...thank you). Sad to say, though, I'm still a hurtin' puppy.
Yes, Gabriela, storms come and go. There's little better than the scent and feel of the Earth after a righteous storm, no?
There is something almost unearthly in the sound of thunder from far away. It's like giants walking.
'thunder', unstoppable, but sounds so frightening ! well scripted!
Jonas... get thee to a physiotherapist pronto! Sounds like you have a pinched nerve in your neck. the longer you leave it like that, the more permanent the damage... Just go! Or I will come boot you in the ass and drag to see one myself!!!! **silly man**
And yes, storms are electrifying. :-)
Now git...
I'm with Ponita - get some help. I hope you know someone that you trust.
p.s. They should be able to tell which nerves are involved by which of your fingers are numb.
I'll rub your neck if you will come tend to my poor leg?? lol.... feel better
Wowza! Yeppers, Kass and Ponita, you done scared me good. Looks like I'll be searching for some professional treatment this coming week. This getting old bit is getting...well...a bit old.
I like the "giants walking" imagery, Maria. I tend to think of distant thunder as "Nature grumbling".
Thank you, Smita. All these comments about storms got me to thinking about the memorable storms I've experienced. I wouldn't be surprised if these reveries coalesce into a blog post someday. Funny, the things we remember so vividly.
Thank you Queen Cheese for the offer. We'd be quite the sight on a dance floor in our current states.
I love thunderstorms. But we don't seem to get the knock-your-socks-off type of storms I remember from my past.
What a great line...."A storm is clawing towards me. I feel it."
Leonard Cohen is really cool and I've only recently discovered him, like five years ago. I haven't heard him sing "Hallelujah" but I'm sure it's enthralling. One of those songs that grabs you by the throat and makes you sit down.
I don't claim to be a huge fan of Leonard Cohen as a singer, Yvonne. As a lyricist he absolutely blows me away.
There's a reson his songs are sung by sooooo many. He's just THAT good at his craft.
Leonard Cohen has many renditions of the song on the net but the live London Concert rendition is by far my favorite and it had always reminded me of rolling thunder. Its truly moving, I wished I had seen it live.
Thanks for the heads up, AJ! I went looking for the video. I assume this is it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YrLk4vdY28Q
It's quite moving. I gotta say, I'm addicted to the sound of the Hammond B3 organ and lyrics such as this:
"I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch..."
Thanks, again.
I love storms. This one was a bit of a nuissance. I was in Boston with my husband and twin babies when it hit. Hard to walk around in that kind of rain and hurricane-force winds with two babies. Oh well, c'est la vie!
Tru dat, Anna. There are storms...and then there are storms.
I remember riding west on a motorcycle...helmetless...when the hailstorm hit. I wailed like a baby. At 90 mph.
Forgive me for my twisted sense of humour, but the thought of you wailing like a baby made me giggle.
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