raindrops keep falling on my head..
I like rain. Rain makes the world seem calm. When I was little my great-grandmother used to tell me that thunder was when a wheelbarrow of potatoes tipped over in heaven. I don’t remember how she described the rain or the lightning, but that was thunder. Every time I asked what thunder was, that was the answer I got. I didn’t like it, so I made up my own. I thought long and hard about rain, lightning and thunder and finally came up with the only solution that seemed possible to my 5 year old mind. The angels were preparing us for death. God has simply decided that we weren’t ready for heaven, or we would have died already. We were what was left when the angels left Earth. We were merely human. The ones who weren’t ready for heaven. So God decided to give the angels a job. Their new job was to treat us like a garden, and have the rain wash away our sins. Sort of like a baptism. The lightning was like plant food for the garden. It was to show us how powerful God was. It was to make our belief in him grow. Like food for the soul. And the thunder was my favorite. Thunder was when the angels were having too much fun gardening. They were laughing. Thunder was the angels laughing. Since we clearly weren’t ready for heaven, we weren’t ready to hear the angel’s laughter, either. So instead we heard thunder in it’s place. I told my great-grandmother my theory once. She said “Thunder is a barrel of potatoes.” And because I loved her so much, and I looked up to her so much, I decided then to just simply believe that thunder was a barrel of potatoes. Tradition comes first. Imagination second. But why can’t we make our tradition be to use our imaginations? Why can’t, when a little kid asks you what the thunder is, you just say “What do you THINK the thunder is?” And when the child answers, why can’t you just say “Then that’s what the thunder shall be.”
What do you think the thunder is? And don’t give me the educated scientifically correct reply. I know you passed third grade science. I’m asking you what your inner child thinks the thunder is? What does your imagination think the thunder is? What does your heart think the thunder is?
What do you think the thunder is? And don’t give me the educated scientifically correct reply. I know you passed third grade science. I’m asking you what your inner child thinks the thunder is? What does your imagination think the thunder is? What does your heart think the thunder is?