Ready for the Storm

I am (literally) in the upstairs of my childhood home, in the suite of rooms that was once my mother's, my brother's, and my bedrooms. I am (in my mind) eight years old. I am safe in my world, bolted in on a Saturday morning, left to my own imaginings, wanderings, creative projects, and songs; listening to the wind in the distance, awaiting the promised storm that will soon blanket the world outside my windows in pure white silence.





The voice of the Lord upon the waters,
the God of glory thunders;
the Lord on the immensity of waters;
the voice of the Lord full of power;
the voice of the Lord full of splendor.

(from Psalm 29, Grail version)