Impatient rainclouds pour growing juice
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to the earth. In some places, flowers
grow roots and shine their appreciation;
elsewhere, the earth remains barren after
consuming fallen water, as if
thankless for the gift.
Comprehending children, realists,
(who are drawn to warmth and driven from cold)
avoid barren ground and instead, lie
in flowers to send their dreams skyward, a
soulful reply to the kindness of the cloud.
-=[ Blank this intentional space! ]=-