STORM-CLOUDS

Abstract

The night thunderclap last evening was extra-loud, fragmented, and nerve-wracking. For a moment, in the depths of my sleep, I imagined the intra-European war in Ukraine had landed in Nairobi and was struck with the dread that is close to preternatural fear. The spatter of raindrops swept away my liminal illusions (delusions), and all was well again. In the clarity of wakefulness, I could allow myself to become hospitable and grateful at the arrival of much-desired rain. The garden that had burned into itself would soon thrive and flourish again—life’s tender miracles.