Born Under A Storm

For She Is The Storm - Copyright R.Weal 2011

For She Is The Storm - Copyright R.Weal 2011

One of my family’s favourite stories about me (of which there
are many), is how I was born under a raging summer storm.
In fact, that August in the year of my birth was a very stormy one and apparently even as a babe, I was never frightened of the storms – mainly I slept peacefully through them.

As I grew I became increasingly fascinated by storms and I’ve always been able to tell when a storm is coming, even before the clouds roll in and the ozone coats the air about us.  Every so often in my life there has been a special storm, one that feels familiar and right.  A deep gravitational pull exists between us, pulling us into each other’s sphere of being, speaking deeply of home and belonging.  She is the elemental force from which an unknowable part of me was sprung the night I was born, my mother storm.

As I sense mother storm I feel the need to go out and meet her; (for I cannot think of her as an ‘it’), to commune with her essence.  I can only describe it as a perfect feeling of being welcomed home.  She always comes when I need guidance or support, when my reserves are low and my spirit ebbing.  She infuses my being, filling me up with her rejuvenating power, firing my creativity with her lightning, warming my heart with her raucous thunder.  And as for her blessed rain?  Oh, to be kissed by her tears – for a moment to be washed clean of all my earthly bonds and pains is a truly indescribable experience.  For when her essence whips about me I am not of this earth – I am the wind, I am the rain and I dance to the thunder beneath the lancing lightning that binds my spirit to her.

Storm Swept - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Storm Swept - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Whilst I commune with her time stands still and yet moves faster than anything I have ever known.  The exceptional bond between us defies all reason.  When she leaves me I am bereft, for a moment so heartbroken I wonder how I will even find my next breath.  But then the world reasserts itself, my heart beats and I find that I am once again whole, infused with a new lustre and will to go on.  Her gift to me is the elemental sorcery that always resides within me, keeping me safe in the light until she can find me again.

She visited me earlier this month and brought forth a torrent of poetry and art (which you can see here in this post), stoking the fire into life from the dying embers of my creativity.  Below you will find the video I captured of my mother storm and the piece of poetic prose I wrote for her.  I hope maybe some of her power leaps out from them into you.

Thank you mother storm, ‘till we commune again I will ever be your earthbound daughter.

Tread safely in the light.

Wealie x


She felt the presence long before she consciously understood. Something called up from deep within her – dormant electricity brought forth into being with only a thought, brightening the very blood within her veins to sing in anticipation.

Alive with power, glowing with effervescence and a pure spark of life, she stepped out into the world no longer entirely a part of it. The wind’s whispers grew into a loving caress, promising the birth of magic to come. Brooding clouds crowded about her, transforming her into an ethereal form. The very weather itself courted her like an attentive lover – framing her like an ancient goddess among men.

And then she knew; knew her storm was calling her home. So long since last they communed, too long since she was filled with the ancient power in her veins and blessed with the mighty kiss of the storm’s tears. So long since she had been absolved of all earthly bounds and shame.

Original Sketch of Storm Goddess - Copyright R.Weal 2011

Original Sketch of Storm Goddess - Copyright R.Weal 2011

“Come,” she plaintively called
“Come to me,” she breathlessly heaved
“Breathe new life into my tired soul.
Imbue these wizened veins with the elixir of your simple truth.
Release my true self and I will be your earthly emissary.”

And so her storm came, rushing over, under, around and through her – flooding her system with cleansing power, covering her with tears of joy as it sung her thunderous praises, ecstatically lighting up the sky with the excitement of their reunion. Woman and storm converged in sorcerous communion, her earth bound spirit set free, birthed anew in the tender love of her mighty Mother Storm.

With regretful motion the two were parted, neither knowing when next they would converge as one. But always within they carry a vital element of the other, so that they might always find each other across the long oceans of time and the lost, lonely valleys of each day and night. For in truth they can never truly be parted.

Ruth Weal

For Mother Storm, until we meet again I am ever your earthbound daughter

Written during a beautiful Summer Storm

Copyright R.Weal © 7 May 2011 1.10 am
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