The Beauty of Us

We are not the sun.
Nor the stars shining brightly in the sky.
We are not the rays of light cascading through a window sill on a Sunday morning.
Our skies are not blue.
In fact, we are the opposite.
We are the crash of lightning.
The BOOM of thunder
We are the breeze that howls in the night,
The trees sway their arms as the dark greens become pumpkin
We dance with them until their leaves crumble to the ground.
We are the rigid ice that cascades from the sky on a cool December morning.
We bring children laughter and joy while they open their gifts.
When spring comes and the flowers erupt from the ground, we feed them life.
And when we seem to have disappeared, we leave a breathtaking array of colors as the mark we give to the world.
We are the rain that pours down from the heavens above, showering the grass below.
For who else nurtures the earth?

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