Weekends are for...Premonition?

Image by Shutterhack via FlickrTrying to get a sense of the world in this mad moment is like trying to describe the feeling just before a storm in Oklahoma. Great power moves stealthfully. Your heart rises in your chest and your breath quickens. At once fearsome and beautiful beyond words, the skies and the earth are straining in a chorus. The heavens roll and rock with rare vibrant colors.
More power seathes through the skies than any war made by man has ever unleashed.
Yet there is a stealthy quiet to it all. As if the video were on mute. You wonder at what the animals hear and feel. Is it just some inadequacy of the human senses? Why can humans only feel the echos of such sounds?
Mind and soul strain through your eyes trying to penetrate the mystery of the skies.
There is a war about to be fought by forces far beyond the ken of mere mortals. Phrases and prose flash through your mind as you reach both inward and outward to understand: The Winds of War. Rolling Thunder. Moments of anthems from your life roam between the prose. I don't know how many times I have whistled Duello watching the skies darken.
I find myself looking at the bright blue skies over a beach and whistling again, over and over. Duello. No prisoners. From ten thousand miles away, literally the other side of the Earth, my throat tightens in memory of The Alamo.
I have known men and women who survived the Gulags, the Holocaust, the horrors of WWII on Okinawa and Taipan. Tattooed and scarred, yet smiling when I knew them. Not brave smiles, full of a false propoganda of courage. But smiles full of wonder at their own courage. That they survived to see the world after the horror.
I suppose, I hope, that someday I will smile the same way - if I survive.
It's another Saturday in the mall. People work and laugh. They smile at one another, and read the papers.