It is written – many are called, but few are chosen. What if you were chosen to be a human barometer? What if by your very existence you measured and gauged the signs of the times, the social weather, societal failings? What if, through your pain and suffering, spring came early, summer was assured, autumn, fleeting, winter, a flicker of a no longer needed contemplation. You were the forecaster of the winds of change, the rain of atonement, the brilliant radiance of the ascension of the sun and beyond. What if you were the measure of the greatest oppressive forces, unleashing the highest altitudes where you would need to catch your breath, gasp in awe? What if?
© 2019 IC Blackman