The skies are colored with warning.
Wetness hangs in their shading.
Shadows of wet and damp, no yellow,
No bright orange, no warm glow.
Yet we must have it, this day of none.
This burst of rain, for the world needs it.
Needs to mourn what is not, mourn change
Forced upon us by our own peril of ignorance.
Good, rich, dark days remind us to grow,
To understand, to play in the puddles on the way.
For they water our very existence, bringing life.
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