As a teenager, I would go outside whenever thunderstorms approached. I would stand barefooted so that I could feel Mother Earth beneath my feet. Watching in silent expectation, I would witness the storm gathering force and moving closer to me. The winds would blow with increasing intensity as the sky grew darker and the flashes of lightning came closer. When the raw power of the storm began to make my heart leap with its wonder, I would lift my arms high over my head and attempt to "Draw Down" some of the power of the storm into myself. I wasn't taught to do this by anyone, but merely doing what seemed fitting.
I wanted to be as inviolable as the storm, to be as pure and natural and garner the same respect as that given to the storm. I wanted to be the storm. I wanted to billow through the skies, dance and pirouette with arms outstretched and shower rain upon the earth, to drip like a raindrop through the leaves on the trees and soak into Mother Earth, becoming One with Her.
Strange as it may seem, I was never afraid. Instead, I reveled in the awesome power that was larger than myself, yet seemed oddly as if it were a part of me. Now, older and wiser, I know why — the rhythms of The Cosmos are as much a part of ourselves as the rhythms of our own bodies. Rivers flow across the Earth as the blood flows in our veins. Lightning flashes in the sky just as neurons transmit signals in our brains. The winds blow through the trees just as our breath enters and exits our lungs. The Moon waxes and wanes in Her course just as the Moontime waxes and wanes in our wombs.
~ photo of an oncoming storm system that I witnessed a few years ago ~
I came across a particular translation of Faust, by Goëthe, in my high school's library. In the beginning of the book where the archangels are speaking in "The Prologue in Heaven," poetic verses appear which are mesmerizing and exquisite in their metre and imagery. I was so entranced by them that I carefully copied them down onto paper. I committed the powerful lines to memory, and recited them whenever I was in the act of Drawing Down a Storm, for they seemed most fitting to me for that very purpose.
| The sun-orb sings in emulation, 'Mid brother-spheres, his ancient round; His path predestined through Creation He ends with step of thunder-sound. The angels from his visage splendid Draw power, whose measure none can say; The lofty works, uncomprehended, Are bright as on the earliest day. And swift, and swift beyond conceiving, The splendor of the world goes round, Day's Edenbrightness still revealing The awful Night's intense profound; The ocean-tides in foam are breaking Against the rocks' deep bases hurled, And both, the spheric race partaking, Eternal, swift, are onward whirled! And rival storms abroad are surging From sea to land, from land to sea, A chain of deepest action forging Round all, in wrathful energy. There flames a desolation, blazing Before the Thunder's crashing way; Yet, Lord, Thy messengers are praising The gentle movement of Thy Day. |
This particular translation of Faust into English was executed in 1870 by Bayard Taylor and published by Fields & Osgood of Boston. It is rendered in the original meter of Goëthe's German work. The entire manuscript can be read at the Project Gutenburg website, for anyone interested in literature.
Although I am not a follower of the Christian religion from which viewpoint these verses were penned, I still find them powerful in their underlying intent and masterful poetic rendition. For me, I think of Goddess more than God, and consider "Drawing Down a Storm" a type of female empowerment and a bonding with Mother Nature on behalf of all women as well as myself. 🚺
18-Mar-2021
