To reach your soft and billowed body
Was why man built his wings.
No wonder songbirds sing uplifting!
Peace and beauty, all is yours,
With your presence the sky is graced.
You catch the sun in your silver sheets
All for the joy of giving sunbeams
Liberation to the ground.
And with what power, what moving majesty
You gather for the storm.
Slowly growing, slowly stronger
You join and mount your forces
Like a dark army forming ranks.
Suddenly, your mass begins to boil,
'Till all of nature stands in awe
Of your furious symphony.
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