I should have written last night when the thunder was roaring and the lightning was crawling across the sky. I felt the message, I felt the magic, I felt the words before I could see them. But even as they literally rained down on my roof I turned away from them and went to bed. I was so tired and it was so late. Now my heart feels heavy, weighed down, and I can’t find the inspiration.
I regret that decision. It reminds me of a passage from my favorite book, though. Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke.
Magic shall be written upon the sky by the rain but they shall not be able to read it;
Magic shall be written on the faces of the stony hills but their minds shall not be able to contain it;
In winter the barren trees shall be a black writing but they shall not understand it…
These few lines from The Prophecy of John Uskglass, the Raven King have always captured me so completely, more than anything I have ever read.