Rise

It rains in the desert, the late night violent with thunder, the valley lit by lightning. The earth floor turns green in a flourish; it will be brief, but a breath is still a breath. The reservoirs are still empty. The desert giveth, the desert taketh back. This was not yours to begin with. 

I sit at the desk in the early morning, the valley ahead dark and quiet again. Soft tendrils of pink light begin to stretch their way above the ridge to the east. House lights flicker in the distance. Thirty years ago I lay jet lagged looking out at the valley at night, counted headlights, followed streetlights turn from green to red to green, I knew something had changed within me, and I could never go back to who I was before. 

We break and bend in the storms along the way, they leave their mark, every step forward means we will never again be who we were. This is the meaning. 

Keep going.