The Clouds Applaud With Thunder
Memory changes each time it spills out. Dad was not as large as he seemed. Puffing up so that none would see his wounds, he preferred to live in darkened corners. Saying little to anyone, he liked neither kids nor mate and was imprisoned by a melancholy life. Growling and snarling, he avoided tender words, not even the thinnest ragged ones that might show love. Pouring his darkest fear into every moment, searing looks and cutting thoughts left no place for me to hide. Aware of life’s fragility, I didn’t expect to see tomorrow. I didn’t fear death; I feared living. What if beatings didn’t kill? Would I suffer invisible wounds that would never heal? Wounds steal hopes, drown dreams and smother each beat of a fragile heart. Will I die before I can find a world where hearts express love, life is safe and clouds have spent their angry thunder?
He died. He died small and afraid. I lived. My wounds have healed. I am no longer afraid of each moment. I love and am loved. No storm can kill a soul. I have found a world where hearts give love, life is safe and clouds applaud with thunder.
I am an artist, a writer and a healer. When given half a chance to share our light, it is easy to see that we are all artists, writers and healers. I write many of my thoughts for others to see. Some write their thoughts inside, behind closed memories, in private places. Who has not drawn a mental picture of their dreams? Who has not held the hand of another? I share my life as openly as my heart allows and love the life I am living. I hope in time to get to know you.
© Robert Luckin
13 Feb 2013