enlightened

              A storm is coming. Yes, that is what they’re saying, “A storm is coming.” Clouds darker than death gallop past on their windy horses. The leaves shudder in fear, showing their white undersides, as if to warn us of the danger. “Watch out, “they seem to cry”, a storm is coming.” Run inside, little children, gather around the window and pity those without a refuge. Shut-off your lights; only the hot, sticky air that precedes lightning remains, choking out the sun and hushing the noise as the clouds rush past. The charged atmosphere promises a grand light-show.

         We feel a presence hovering above us. Nothing breathes. Even the trees, swaying in their fear, turn motionless, maybe out of respect for the great power coming. Only our dog whimpers in the dark of our creaky house. Our whole existence seems to come down to this moment of obedient waiting. An intense feeling of peace overcomes me, the feeling of being minute compared to our infinite universe. “Why are we here? Is there a god? How can there not be? How can there be?” This event triggers questions in my mind, questions all have asked, questions that can never be answered. The sudden oppression of the clouds overwhelms me; I can feel it in my bones.

         “Flash!” Two dark soldiers collide. There it is, the moment we dread. The white light strikes itself into my mind, and I watch it forever, for it has stolen time, stopped the ticking of time. Each detail, each imperfect, crooked bit of electricity flashes light onto everything imaginable; into every flaw in the Earth’s perfect formation, every wrinkle on my mother’s worried face, every page of the book flapping in the wind.

         Who knows which animal is dead, which child is hit, what part of the world has been destroyed? The lightning is merciless, but we forgive it for being so cruel, for even such a great power does not choose its target. Nothing has power over all aspects of its existence; there is always something or someone that it depends on. I am suddenly enlightened; I know why we are here, why the lightning strikes and what life is about. We are all here for that little moment of illumination, that tiny instant in which we seem to understand everything, that second that makes us who we are.

         We count the seconds until, “Bang!” Only now do we wake up from our trance, as the cavalry rides on above our heads, as the storm gets closer, as we wait for another.