Lightning Sower

---

---

Poetic Description

“Lightning Sower does not challenge the storm — she embraces its fury like a silent sister of thunder.
In the brilliance of turmoil, she delights in the roar of the elements. For lightning, under her fingers, is neither anger nor punishment: it is sown light, truth fractured in the shadow of the sky.

Kneeling on the wind, her torso arched, arms open like two promises of the abyss, she releases lightning without violence. A suspended gesture, simple and sovereign. Her hands, offered to the earth she once loved, let fall radiant silences. Thus the earth receives a breath from the heavens. A vision. A searing trace of what descends from celestial clouds.

Her base, woven of volutes and arcs of energy, holds her movement aloft in the void. Her flowing drapery, falling between her legs like eclipsed curtains woven from shadow and glimmers, bestows upon her body the majesty of dreams. Her head, turned toward the unseen, watches. She gazes at what no eye can grasp: the light that seeps in, the world as it opens.

Her bronze veil takes on the hue of ultramarine, as if the night had brushed against her before vanishing. From the darkened base to the translucent heights, her form rises like breath, like ascension. Celestial whiteness. The rising of lightning.

Lightning Sower reveals the world for but a moment. She crosses the skies to carve fissures of light within them. She is the messenger of storms, the gentle hand of the tempest. And to those who behold her, she whispers this:
some flashes do not blind — they move through the soul like a shiver of clarity.”

---

---