Storms

Short story about storms.

There are few things I have been passionate about in my lifetime, but

nature's storms have truly been one of the most awesome forces I have

ever known. A force that strikes awe in my heart, like a lost lover

sends chills down my back. The passion in the heart of a violent storm,

that rides the clouds like death rides the sea; with ferocity and vehemence, and a power that answers to no authority. Compelling.

    And so I

say, storms are the greatest form of true beauty. A force totally

untouched by the hands of man, a power that can't be reasoned with, a

beauty that petrifies hearts with terror. Held in the depths of the

clouds, a passion so natural and true that there is no questioning of

the purpose for its existence. To cleanse.

    If you've ever

witnessed a wall of clouds furiously crawling across the sky, with the

winds of Hell behind them, then you too, have felt that helplessness in

your heart. The small knowledge built into your psyche that tells you

to run, to seek shelter, for fear of death.

A storm; an unstoppable passion.