Thirsty

Friday, July 06, 2007

Wind

I can hear the wind roar outside, even twenty years later now.
Wind child, they called me, because I would go out in the middle of a storm -eye for an eye- barefoot, just to shout with my eyes closed and arms spread wide open to welcome the divine play and take me with it. With every breath I felt stronger, with every roar I grew larger and larger. As if God herself was licking my being, sucking out my soul to put hers in place. Oh yes, the wind is my religion; and my rabbits are my saints!