Anatomy of a Thunderstorm – A Metaphor

Heavy, humid air

The weight of the impending storm

Pressing down, drawing out

The sky yearning for relief

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Darkened, thick clouds approaching

Rich and deep, with the promise of rain

Rumbling in anticipation

Bearing down in preparation

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And then…

The first flash

The initial burst that opens the sky

Electrifying the laden atmosphere

And lighting the way for what is to come

Fork lightning striking down during summer storm

Drop

By tentative drop

Sliding slowly down a window

Hesitant at first, each patter creating ripples

That flow into one another

Gradually increasing in tempo

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Until the comforting steadiness

Begins to pick up speed

Constant, bouncing off each surface

Soaking the thirsty ground with increasing intensity

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Until the lightning

Banging thunder

Pounding rain

Assault the senses and threaten to flood over

Pressing on and on, louder and louder, stronger and stronger

With blinding flashes and earth-shaking explosions

Overwhelming the earth

dramatic-rain-scene-small-2-Lightning

And then…the light

Breathing through the receding rain

Edging away the softening thunder

Quieting the rioting sky

Slowly, softly, gently

Peace

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That Kind of Girl

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That Kind of Girl

 

She’s the kind of girl

Who loves the color pink and twirly skirts, even if it’s cliché

Who Has a set of hot curlers in the cabinet under her bathroom sink…and still uses them from time to time

Who is waiting for hats to come back into fashion

Who still looks around when she puts on white after Labor Day to see if her mom is watching

 

She’s the kind of girl

Who likes her jeans comfy, faded, and sitting just below the waist

Who has too many beloved t-shirts, but she can’t bear to get rid of them

Who takes off her shoes the minute she gets home

Who likes her Auburn sweatshirts too big

 

She’s the kind of girl

Whose favorite book is Jane Eyre

Who knows when Mozart was born and died

Who wishes for a chance to use her antique teacup collection

Who would love to dress up and see a musical on Broadway

 

She’s the kind of girl

Who still cries every time she watched Steele Magnolias

Who forgets everything her voice teacher taught her when she belts Carrie Underwood

Whose grammar gets worse the more riled up she gets

Who likes calloused hands better than smooth ones

 

She’s the kind of girl

Who practices ladylike grace in public

But who likes to be loud with her friends

Who loves a good long hug when she sees an old friend

And who won’t tell who she is when the doors close…because most people probably wouldn’t believe her (smile)

 

Yeah…. she that kind of girl