It’s okay, God, I see you, between the North Atlantic and the stars. You’re making white lightning across a carpet of clouds below me, illuminating continent-sized liquid landscapes and the mountains of mist you created in a heartbeat.

There’s no one out here to see you, aside from the pilots of a sleeping plane flying toward the sunrise that won’t wait for an introduction before it meets us. Maybe there are boats below me, beneath the clouds that are providing you with this momentary distraction.

God, are you being creative or are you just playing? I used to think you only made thunder and lightning when you were angry. Having only ever seen a storm on the ground, I never before had the chance to see things from your point of view. But here between the ocean and the worlds above I share your appreciation for the beauty of a storm.

Far be it for me to say this, God, but be careful what you play with, okay? There are a lot of us down here now… [Click here to continue reading this article at ‘Meanwhile’]