Weathering the storm. Big thunder claps accompany accumulating dark clouds. It’s gonna rain all over this earth. It’s gonna get wet. And I’m out here on the prairie with no shelter to keep me dry. So as the deluge comes down the mountaintops and into the fields, I close my eyes and raise my face and lift my arms triumphantly, like I have won some long awaited race. And tensions were high but I did it. With eyes closed and the rapid pitter-patter of raindrops on mud puddles, I stomp my feet and yawp. Alone in the great Midwestern stretch where no one, save a few woodland, wildlife creatures who may hear me. Soaked to the skin. Drenched to the bone. I don’t want to rain to ever stop. Bring my love and bring him now. We will get married in this eloquent Nature offering. Some spirit goddess will confirm our love and we will live here in this moment, in the rainstorm, and never leave. Even when we die, our ghosts will come to rest on this plain, and we will watch over all that happens here. Even if it is nothing for a thousand years. Youthful smiles and Zen will feed us, along with our appetite for each other. Hurricanes calm and this love will float on the surf. We will paddle along both calm and stormy seas and tell these stories for the rest of our lives.