The Power

The air is heavy. Thick with humidity. And I don’t have a choice. I need to get out. It is a sharp longing, like my desire for oxygen or sleep. The storm is coming. Harsh rumblings pound closer and the sky glows an eerie shade of pink. I know I’ve got to move.

And it happens. Just like that. I am flying down the street, feet not quite sure what to do with newly found speed. I only run when being chased. It is a policy I’ve kept with well. But tonight is different. I need to get out fast.

The sidewalk meets my shoes haltingly, and my breath heats. I cannot believe this is me. Wouldn’t believe it at all if not for the faltering steps at the end of my own legs and the cymbals of my breath crashing in my ears.

I run as though my life depended on it. And as the storm pounds closer I can see that it does. The sky rips open top to bottom, like pale flesh covering thoracic cavity, and every bump in the road is illuminated. For an instant. Then the sky plunges to black and my feet struggle for balance.

I keep running. The wind chases me now. I turn the corner and head for home. I’m not in it for the distance tonight. It is too new and too raw. But now I see. There is more to me than I already know. Some strange strength is gathering like the roiling clouds blowing in from the west.

I reach my driveway just as giant raindrops start to fall. The wind and lightning torment each other to frenzy as I slam through my front door. And my chest heaves as I stare back into the night. Hail the size of kumquats is pelting soggy grass and the sky is lit up like the middle of the day.

The power of the storm is fierce. But there is other power here, too. And tonight I can finally see it as the lightning rages through the darkened sky.