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Storm
The Cardinal
wilowisp
If I ever have any doubt of the divine, I need only hear the rain. A chaos-drop of particle water that cannot be predicted, cannot be captured in any of the symbols we know. Electric races between thunderheads, no thought to the winners who are merely spent quicker than those they outrun. A post-modern thought evolves on sunny, dry days; all it takes is a little rain to remind us that ancient realities can drown even the most abstract of reasoning. This is my heaven, this is my sweet remembrance.

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