must have scratched
and torn the sagging clouds
the stratus blanket
wrapped tightly around
the midday sun rays
and played peak-a-boo
with the Helios crown
the tiny spruce needles
took their own aspersion
as divinely ordained to
and the sacred water
floating through the sky
cast downward lightly
momentary in blessing
in a rain that questioned
if it really happened at all
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