Dancing in the rain
with my arms outstretched
Tiny rivers
rushing between my toes
Hair dripping
down the small of my back
Conducting the blitzkreig
with the music in my head
Playing wood nymph again,
if only for a while.

Dana McNabb
Today there was a thunderstorm.

It started innocently enough. . . as far as the eye could see, in any and every direction, lay perfect blue and grey clouds.

Then came the lightning; snaking across the sky in a well balanced, yet eery dance. In response, thunder boomed through the flashes. . . and I knew. . .

I had to be there, with them, in the rain.

I got out of my car, and pranced, danced, skipped and ran in the wildness of the elements. I danced until the thunder inside me took over, and then I sang. And when my voice was gone, and the wind had taken over my song, I sat in the middle of the field with my head back. . . tasting the rain, watching, listening, and FEELING what being alive is all about.

It is sad to think that there are so many hearts that have hardened to things like dancing in the rain. . .hearts that don't feel things as intensely as they should.

The result is a hard world in which we have to make choices we shouldn't have to make. A place where love is nearly obsolete, and tears are considered weak. A place where honesty is valued, but can't be found. A place we incorrectly call home.

My home is a place of wildness and dancing. Friends are welcome, trust is abundant, honesty runs rampant. Doors aren't locked, fences aren't needed. In my home, you will need no form of defense. . . come only with a clear heart and mind

Set aside your umbrella.

Come and dance with me in the rain.

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