Welcome to My Dreams
Mother Nature
Thunderstorms are sometimes likened to Mother Nature's fury. Her winds, hail, heavy rain and lightening are considered her temper tantrum, her anger. She is feared when she acts up. Her damage is what is remembered. When I think of thunderstorms, however, I think they are Mother Nature's joyous climax.
Mother Nature has many faces, and there are similar phases to her loving of the earth as there are to the act of making love. Today was no exception. The day started out torrid and sultry. The air was thick with the anticipation of the storms to come. Leaving the house for work, I could feel the mood she was in deep in my soul, and I reveled in it.
Throughout the day, as I stepped outside to take a break, I could sense the changes in her mood. She had begun the day quietly flirting with the earth. By noon, the heat was strengthening, the air was thickening, and the excitement I felt at her dance with the earth grew. The touch of her sunshine, like a million fingers, touched her lover and missed very little. The sky, much as I imagine the sky to be her eyes, was bright pale blue, it's brightness reflecting her excitement. The rays of the sunshine scorched the earth everywhere it shone, much as a lover's touch would singe the skin of the one they love.
The day wore on. I imagined Mother Nature dancing and teasing, and I sat in adoration of her power over the earth. The heat grew into a fire. A fire that needed to be extinguished, but an enjoyable fire nonetheless. The day was beautiful, and Mother Nature had not yet reached her peak. Her flirtations with the earth continued all day long, teasing and taunting, her crescendo building. It became so hot it was almost unbearable. Unbearable to most because the heat was uncomfortable. Unbearable to me simply because I had yet to see Mother Nature's orgasmic jubilation this year. And I knew for all she was worth, she would reach her climax tonight.
As evening dawned, she teased the earth with just a few drops of her moist sweet dew. Not enough to cool even a fly, but enough to taunt unmercifully and make the earth want for more. Oh, she is good. She knows how to make her lover earth wait. She knows how to make the earth want her and need her like never before. Her heat and excitement became overwhelming. How she hadn't lost control before this is beyond my meager knowledge.
Off in the distance the sky begins to darken with storm clouds and faint whispers of thunder are heard. Mother Nature's excitement is reaching extraordinary levels. Her orgasm will be one of her best. Lightening flashes in the distance, and the rolling thunder becomes louder, closer. A few more drops of rain fall to tempt, and I could tell she was slowly losing her hold.
People began to rush around, battening down the hatches so to speak. They know her "fury" to be great. They only worry about the damage she can do. They do not see the beauty in her loving of the earth that I see. As the sky darkens to a bluish green slate, I see her passion growing. As lightening flashes nearer I see her excitement overflowing. As thunder claps loudly, I hear her moans of desire. As the wind picks up speed, I feel her sweet breath becoming shallow and quick on my cheek. Her desire is rushing out of control. And as the rain begins to fall, I can taste her love on my tongue.
As her climax reaches it's peak, her winds can uproot trees much the same way fingernails can scrape the skin on a lover's back. Lightening strikes and thunder claps, her orgasmic screams rocking the ground. Rain pours down in sheets, the climatic juices of her womb. Her orgasm is a strong one, a lasting one. And I am just a voyeur, intently watching, as her love capitulates into something to involve all senses.
The storm ebbs, leaving in it's wake evidence of her loving in the puddles on the ground, steam rising from the rooftops, broken branches in the yards and heat lightening in the distance. The rain is now a light drizzle, the tears falling from her cheeks from such joy. She is calm now. The afterglow of her loving is intense. She is at peace once more. And though Mother Nature never sleeps, she will now rest in her lover's arms.
� Kathee Tschudy, 1997.
Master of My Soul
Daydreams spinning, thoughts about the master of her soul, with loving guidance and patience, his commands have taken their toll. On her knees where she belongs before his manly stance, she closed her eyes and thought about the day began this dance�
There'd been days where she felt she'd not continue to live if he did not come by and show her how much he had to give. Feelings forbidden due to life's miracles and circumstance, her heart stopping when he'd take a little time to her way glance. Carried away quickly, whisked off to some distant magical land, where they could talk and learn and share and even hold a hand. Somehow life invaded territory she thought it could never touch. Reality broke down what had begun - she missed it very much. Life was dark, her soul depleted of the love that she had found,
Her timid heart torn from her chest and stomped into the ground.
Life continued somehow through this dark, nightmarish haze and little notes of friendship were what made up her boring days. She found a friend where once was love, and love where once was none; a new path taken, foundation raised, a new life had begun. As life became more clear each day, confidence took root and she begged and pleaded for his love but her point was simply moot. His love was there for her to take, he'd always been her friend. Her heart exposed, romance no more, time to turn the bend. Now on her knees before him, she pleads not for the love you'd expect. She awaits his calculated demands and finds this whole thing perfect.
No longer begging for love, but tormented to her core, obsessing about her possessor, asking for nothing more. Descending into a place where her wants and wishes are earned, she has found a fantastical land in which to be she's always yearned. He commands of her all she can be and demands so much more than she ever dreamed she'd be able to give to anyone before. With wild abandon she gives him his each and every desire and teases him, his anger making her wonder what will transpire. His voice cold and calculating, shivers run up and down her spine, so easily she plummets into a world that's anything but sublime.
� Kathee Tschudy, May 17, 1998
The Awakening
The stars are still shining brightly in the dark sky above her head as she sits silently outside her castle. There's no sound to break her concentration as she digs deeply through the cobweb-filled chasms of her mind. Eyes open, she's still asleep, the cool early morning air tickling her sleep-warmed skin.
She closes her eyes, leans back in her chair, and enjoys the peace. Her subjects are still fast asleep, her kingdom dark. She takes a deep breath and enjoys the sweet cool air in her lungs. Although the stars continue to twinkle, the sky is beginning to lighten to the east.
The moon, bright and full, looks down upon her, guarding, ever watchful. She sinks down into the chair and stretches her long legs out, enjoying the feel of the cool, damp grass under her bare feet. Her mind, still not awake, is full of sensation, not thought. The breeze, blowing through her auburn hair, tickles the back of her neck, contentment the only word she can think of.
As her kingdom dreams, so does she, the fragrance of wildflowers floating on the air, of peace of mind. The birds awaken one by one, their glorius choir building crescendo, singing praise to the morning to come. The sky continues to lighten, the stars disappearing to their secret place until night fall.
She opens her eyes and sees a lilac hue reflecting off her white cotton gown, the sparse white clouds growing pink against the slowly lightening sky. The air is warming, sultry and humid, and beneath her feet the grass is wet from the dewy kiss of the earth's awakening. The birds continue their chorus, rejoicing at the solitude of the early morning.
The full moon's face is fading fast against the light blue sky. The warm breeze blows stronger, rustling the leaves in the trees and causing goosebumps on her warm skin. The sky is orange and pink to the east, a mere yawn of the awakening world. She yawns with it, and stretches with a content sigh.
All at once, the brightness fades, light blue sky meeting dusty lilac to the east, the yawn over. The castle, still dark, continues it's slumber, and peace fills her heart. Not yet fully awake, she closes her eyes once more and breathes deeply the sweet morning air.
Orange seen through her eyelids, she opens her eyes to the brilliant sight she'd been waiting for. Bright orange and red reflect off anything they can, and in the east the top of the great orange-red sphere can barely be seen. As the sun slowly rises to show it's full face, the colors, floating through the sultry air, coat the world with their warmth.
The orange and red quickly lighten to bright sunlight as the sun continues it's ascent into the blue sky, warming her body and her peaceful mind. A light comes on in the castle, her subjects rising with the day. She smiles, rises out of her chair and stretches, clearing the fuzz from her vacant mind to make room for the many thoughts that cloud her world.
The earth, now awake, is smiling all around her. She looks around the grounds to her kingdom once more and smiles in return. The awakening was all that she'd hoped for and much more. Now fully awake, miracles witnessed pressed deeply in her heart, she heads into her castle to start her day.
As she enters her castle and hears the hustle and bustle going on within it's walls, she knows she'll seek the peace and solitude she'd tucked away and saved for herself at least once throughout this day. She was witness to the awakening and the sights, sounds, smells and feelings would not soon be forgotten.
� Kathee Tschudy, 1998.
Daydream
She stood in the middle of her front yard, arms slightly outstretched, head slightly raised, eyes closed, letting the warm southern wind blow her auburn hair away from her face. Spring was here, and she could smell a thunderstorm off in the distance.
It had been a long time since she had indulged in the enjoyment of the beauty of nature. The sky was darkening, quickly filling with black clouds. To the west the sunset glowed a deep purple, hot pink and bright orange, and it was one of the more beautiful sunsets she had ever been lucky enough to witness. As she stood there in her own yard, looking up at the slowly dimming sky, she thought about all the beauty in her life she had overlooked and taken for granted.
Earlier that day, she'd noticed the first pussy willows were showing their fuzzy little heads on the new pussy willow bush she planted just last spring. The three maple trees lining the back yard were in full bud. Bulbs were growing and peeking new green shoots out of the garden. Fat, red-breasted robins ran around the front yard digging worms for their evening meal. The grass had somehow changed from the dull gray-brown of winter to the new green of spring, and she wondered how she had missed seeing that happen.
As the warm wind continued to caress her body, the sky continued to darken. The pink and orange had turned into dusky shades of red and copper, and storm clouds had begun to roll in from the south. She could feel the beginning of electricity in the air, and her skin tingled. The warm wind became cooler and blew stronger. A storm was definitely brewing. She looked up and down the street and could see the faint outline of a man walking up from one end.
As the man walked up the street, she thought about the time she'd spent earlier that day studying herself in the mirror. Physically, she wondered when the gray hair had started becoming so noticeable. She'd noticed the beginnings of crow's feet around her tired olive green eyes, and wondered when they had first appeared. As she had smoothed lotion under her eyes, she thought she'd better attend to the smile lines that had also started. She smiled in the mirror, as always trying to perfect what could not be changed. She still had hollows from her high cheekbones and a dimple when she smiled, so all was not lost.
She felt the cool breeze blow her tee shirt against her breasts and felt her nipples harden against the soft cotton at the excitement of the thunderstorm brewing in the distance. She had wasted 32 years trying to obtain the peace within herself she had now. Peace that had been so simple to come by once she stopped worrying about what anyone else thought. It still struck a chord within her once in a while, the self-conscious shyness she'd spent years dealing with. And when she thought of all the years she'd spent putting herself down and destroying herself, she wondered how she had ever managed to come out of it alive. Beauty was not only skin deep, and her heart and soul had more depth than the ocean.
As the man came closer, the sky grew darker, and lightning flashed in the distance. She could dimly view the outline of the man, but he was only about fifty yards away now. Thunder rumbled lightly above her head, and she knew the thunderstorm would be a gentle one. Nice spring rain to make the flowers bloom and the trees grow leaves.
As she felt the first few raindrops hit her face, she thought about friendship and how she had taken even that priceless gift for granted in the past. The man was getting closer and his shape took on a familiar form. A form that both frightened her and yet intrigued her. The rain was falling in big drops now and soaking her tee shirt and her long hair. She loved the feeling of spring rain after a warm day. It was cool on her face and she stuck out her tongue to catch a drop or two, and wondered when the last time was she had tasted rain.
The man came closer now, and stopped at the end of her driveway. She had just finished her taste of springtime when she looked over and spotted him watching her intently. Her friend. Her confidant. She was stunned to see him standing there, and he just smiled. She smiled in return, and tears filled her eyes. He always knew when she needed him most.
He walked over to her in the rain, and stood before her, his hand on her cheek. She started to look down, embarrassed at being caught playing in the rain like a child. He tipped up her chin and looked into her eyes, wordlessly shook his head no, and with is thumb wiped a tear away that had threatened to trickle down her cheek. She looked into his eyes, and saw her own beauty reflected there, and her heart melted.
He wrapped her into his arms slowly but surely, running his warm hands up and down her back, and she held him fiercely in return. A hug from a friend she had taken for granted. A hug from someone she loved. A hug that warmed her through and through. She trembled and so did he. Feelings were felt strong, enveloping them both. Frightening them both, but the forces calling to them just the same.
He hugged her closer and she could feel his heart beating strongly, matching her own. Words were not necessary. The hug said it all. The love was felt by both. The friendship was not to be taken for granted anymore. Not to be taken lightly. Not to be dismissed. Not to be ignored. It was there, shining as bright and as beautiful and as sure as the sunset had earlier in the evening.
After five whole minutes of indulging in the hug, she opened her eyes once again and realized the rain had stopped � and she was alone. Alone physically but never mentally. Never in her heart. He was with her when she needed him most, and his friendship was as sure and natural and pure as the spring rain. His friendship and love were felt in her soul. They filled up her heart. They filled up her life. They filled her whole being. She was loved, and nothing else really mattered.
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