O thunderous sky
why do you sting
and side with lightning?
Are you angry,
are you in discontent?
Clouds; your Brothers,
your grayscale blankets,
clothe you and feed you droplets
of Earth's freshest
sources and streams.
O thunderous sky,
cease your rumbling,
halt your bolts,
veer your volts,
tell what's wrong
and welt not
Our big blue dot.
THOMAS RIVET
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