Himalayan thunder

It's awfully late. My imagination keeps me awake tonight in this far away place. I lay cocooned in my sleeping bag listening to the thunder as it roars across the Kathmandu Valley. The storm has a strength to it which I imagine comes rolling down from the north like it has a million times before. An ancient course. Gaining greater life force as it rolls through Mongolia, frightening ancient warlords. Then into China, startling the Geishas who still do not falter as they gracefully maneuver on delicate feet. Then it sweeps thru Tibet spinning the prayer wheels in it's wake until finally it crests on Everest, pausing for just a moment to admire the glory of creation and then like a roller coaster, comes spinning into this valley. Roaring into our dreams. Bringing with it wisdoms that stay on our tongues only thru the twilight hours. When we fully awake, we will climb the stairs up to the roof. Cold breath and hot tea. Looking out to the mountains that envelope us, we will feel that there was something we wanted to tell each other but couldn't quite remember...