As the rain fell ever so softly on the field, I shivered with delight, soaking up the cold water droplets that fell upon my face, the long blades of grass blowing about my body as a fierce wind stuck through the already chilled air.  My bare fingers and toes were beginning to numb, a bright red hue taking over my complexion, my crudely cut dark locks matted with wet and grime.  A smile took over my face, eyes closed, teeth exposed to the elements, surrounded by chapped and cracking lips. This was paradise.  I was lying in absolute bliss.  Nature hitting me from all sides, taking me into it, swallowing me whole, eating me up, simply devouring my body and my soul.  Would it take me all the way this time?  Into it; would it let me be a part of the storm? Part of the swirling mass of grey, flashing bolts of lighting into the ground, roaring with it’s thunder, throwing it’s gusts of freezing air, pouring out it’s tears, releasing all it’s fury and energy back into the earth so that it may be restored, and gain strength once again.  
      
       I cast out my senses, feeling, and being; what I felt the storm to be.  Each crack of thunder: the anger.  Each shot of lightning: the wrath. Each droplet of rain: the tears. Each gust of wind: the agony.  I let my anger fill me, with each rumble; let my wrath blind me with each bolt of light; let my owns sorrows leak in drops from my eyes; and I felt my agony blow about with the wind.  I wanted the storm to restore me as it would the earth.  I wanted to still be lying there when the storm had finished, and the sun dared to peek through the clouds, lessening their grey, and gracing its light and warmth upon the land.  When the rainbows replaced the anger and sadness with joy, when the cold winds became a warm light breeze, when the wet ground absorbs its new moisture and the grasses become greener and the flowers more vibrant.  I wanted to be part of that anger turned to joy, that dark turned to light, that sadness turned to utter happiness.  To open my eyes when the sun hit my face, drying my sadness and turning it to delight, when the winds slowed, and warmed my chilled skin, soothing my once raging agony; when the sight of the colors filled me with energy, refreshing my senses, sending all my anger away.
      
       No one knew that I lay among the grasses, clothed only in the thick robe I had secretly made for such an occasion.  The once white cloth now turned brown.  Nor did I care for my presence on that field to be known to any other than myself and the storm.  This opportunity, to refresh myself, redeem my soul, was all too rare, to be disturbed or interrupted by those who chose to have their mistakes and wrong doings follow them like a dark presence of which they cannot shake.  Those who never released their anger, sorrow, agony and wrath but kept it with them at all times; would not even dare try to understand what I was doing lying with the storm, hoping it let me become a part of it.  They would not see how I was leaving behind all that was bad to start afresh in sync with the earth.  Therefore the knowledge of my whereabouts was to remain confidential.
       
       I put myself into the storm as best I could, willingly offering myself to it.  I could do no more than hope that it took me within it, so I could too, release all my troubles.  My attachment to the earth would allow me to become renewed when the storm ceased, leaving me back where it chose to take me in.  I opened up all my senses to the heavens, yelling out with my whole being to the Gods to include me in their release.