Eye of the Storm – Part One (153 words)
The sky darkened, clouds racing eastwards as the wind tore at the treetops, snatching leaves from twigs and sending them spinning around me.
Any minute now, the full fury of the storm would break – and I was right in its path.
I scanned my surroundings, looking for a solution, a miracle, an escape from the evil I guessed was being carried within the tormented cloud.
Over the howling of the fierce wind, Carel called to me, his face wild with fear; I shook my head, knowing it was already too late for me.
The others would be heading underground, feet moving urgently on the steps circling from surface to sanctuary, down to where food and matches and candles and blankets awaited.
But I’d known all along that they were coming for me, that it would be my turn to appease the wild furies of the sky.
I stood alone, waiting for the strength of nature to claim me.
For a while the story ended there . . . but then, out of the blue, Part Two – another seven sentences – appeared in my head! And as we’re so lovely, we’ve decided to share Part Two with you today as well!
Part Two (185 words)
With the wind whipping around me, I became suddenly aware of a great peace, as though I was in the eye of the storm.
I closed my eyes, needing to discover more about this still, quiet space which had become part of me.
As I focused, I somehow found myself expanding, my awareness reaching out, touching the furious wind as it howled through the trees.
My senses melded with the energy of the wind, so that I became a part of it, a part of the world beyond me, stretching even beyond the storm.
Keeping my eyes closed, I let the calm centre of me flow with this strange new awareness, allowed myself be taken into the storm and its power and its energy.
Time stilled, became meaningless; but there was a knowing, an understanding, that the fury of the wind was reacting to my energy, that it was calming.
Tamed at last, the wind’s cry softened to a whisper, and the air fell still; I opened my eyes and walked towards the sanctuary to pass on the news to my people . . . their shaman had come of age.
Copyright Joanna Gawn 2014