It begins as a whisper —

rain testing the air,

a shiver through the pine needles.

Then the sky splits.

You run,

feet pounding the moss-soft floor,

lungs burning with the scent of earth and lightning.

Every breath feels stolen

from the storm’s hungry mouth.

Branches claw at your sleeves,

their fingers slick with rain.

The world becomes a single heartbeat —

yours, the sky’s, the forest’s —

all cra...