Act of God

The recent Hurricane was a victory for me. The Ravens followed me and gorged on locusts. It was a nice warm rain, clear liquid, like God was in rein. The ground soaked up the water thirstily, and the animals seemed to be calm sitting in the rain. Two days before it hit there was an unnatural calm, eerie, but god what a respite from the ordinary, and yes the animals knew a flood was coming, but around where I live in the wrath of the Connecticut River, anyway, they were only temporarily freaked. The fish and animals don't care about floods. The flood plains protect them fine. After the rains, the Connecticut water was muddy but it was a silky mud filled with viral carbon, and glowed silvery. It made me certain that the Hurricane was no mistake. It followed the track ordained by exasperating life and delivering a banquet of welcome change, actually I felt chosen that it was sent over me. The eye appeared, long after it had stopped raining, and brang the source of intense calm that was felt two days before, but it was a short calm, making me wonder how the tiny center had managed the collosal outburst. It was a period to the thought. The Storm of the century.