The kind rain makes a warm room more blessed
its air so much soft-sweeter
When the sky is blanket, nebulous,
a fluff-hover
on the grateful earth.
Trees hum, while the grass tingles,
and roots tangle, tremble, silent.
When the sun comes, life roars all the louder.
And planted things become dragons, once so pale and tender.
Now fiercely and strong,
green sinew, unrepentant,
alive, gripping the black dirt
a-rush toward the sun.
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