storms

Teo had once claimed that human history began with a storm: the interval between lightning and thunder, between flash and rumble felt in the body's core, was primitive man's first experiences of time -- the awakening of consciousness, the birth of the gods.

Rejoice with glitters of ashes tonightSparkling for moon's spiced silver biteUpon skin of darkness, loving night moreStorm begins unlocking cold wind's door

When a person thinks you are too good for them, they create a wall without even taking a chance. The best life that God has in store for a person is often thrown away because of what he or she thinks they deserve. True love is not the life you had, but the life you never realized you could have.

I used to fight back the inner resistance within me before when for a while I thought this keeps me from living the life I was born to enjoy. But then I realized that this "madness" inside me is not at all a destructive force but a raging "storm" which needs to come out for me to fully discover my potential. This wondrous "storm" helped me to unravel the secrets of my being - of my purpose and true calling. Now, I come to embrace wholeheartedly who I am and why I was born." - "My Storm", Author/Poet Elizabeth Esguerra Castillo

That stormy day in the desert, however, much changed for me. We must have our goals, our dreams and we must strive for them. We are not gods, however; we do not have the power to shape every aspect of the future. And the road the world makes for us is one that teaches humility if we are willing to learn.

When listening to the lightning storms in your area on a standard AM radio, you will hear a sound like bacon frying and this is the electromagnetic energy that the storm is generating. Plants react to this energy and may show vigorous growth during lightning seasons.

Am I a storm-waster? For it is within the fury of the very storms within which I cower that I find resources for my growth that are entirely absent on calmer days.

I am suspended in the moment. Flickering images faded with age, frozen thoughts hovering precariously in dead space, a whirlwind of memories that slice through my soul.

Storms don't come to teach us painful lessons, rather they were meant to wash us clean.

Call me crazy, but there is something terribly wrong with this city.

That__ a stupid name! Whirly-gig is much better, I think. Who in their rightmind would point at this thing and say, ____ going to fly in my Model-A1_.People would much rather say, __et in my whirly-gig_. And that__ what youshould name it.

She leaves my side and heads deeper intothe apartment singing, ___f the spirit tries to hide, its temple far away_ acopper for those they ask, a diamond for those who stay.

I rouse Emily to our guests, as she finishes off our fifteenth snowman by setting the head atop its torso. She stands limp at my direction, pointing out the coming shadows and I cannot help but hear a muffled sigh as she decapitates her latest creation with a single push of her hand.

There is a stillness between us, a period of restlessness that ties my stomachin a hangman__ noose. It is this same lack in noise that lives, there! in thedarkness of the grave, how it frightens me beyond all things.

I can__ help but ask, __o you know where you are?__he turns to me with a foreboding glare. __o you?

Did Bach ever eatpancakes at midnight?

I steal one glance over my shoulder as soon as we are far from the foreboding luminance of the neon glow, and it is there that my stomach leaps into my throat. Squatting just shy of the light and partially concealed by the shade of an alley is a sinister silhouette beneath a crimson cowl, beaming a demonic smile which spans from cheek to swollen cheek.

History doesn__ start with a tall buildingand a card with your name written on it, but jokes do. I think someone is takingus for suckers and is playing a mean game.