So where to land; or should there be a destination; but to just savour the joy of sailing through storm clouds, into the milieu, then back above for contrast to where the Sun shines without pause nor care for surface events, where another world below soaks all under its wing.
Here is where we are cleansed; our doubt and hangups removed for purity, which is never far from our grasp, should we remember to look for it. Amidst the discharge, electrons find their way to ground, pressurized, speeding, cutting through unnatural night; ephemeral in its totality, but commanding all and forever in those moments.
Do we fly beneath the cover, and bear witness to the dark majesty of rain, as it throws the wind about, and us as a consequence; or do we choose the sunlight and ease of bliss, outside of the weathering ring. This is not a question but merely a matter for destiny, and as it draws on our minds, we slip into thought; for her, new and deep.
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