-Silent clouds resembling stitched white downy blankets wisp and fold blissfully in the endless sapphire sky like smoke dancing in the wind.
-With no hidden agenda or fixed rationale the eager clouds move steadfast with the eternal wind, forever changing, forever free.
-On this endless voyage to nowhere in particular they begin to turn grayish and bulge with precipitation, like an infant bubbling with anger.
-Ominous yet still innocent, the once silent clouds now bellow and roar wrathfully, tossing brightly lighted daggers to the unfortunate landscape below.
-This fit of rage is short lived though, and soon the clouds just sit, sulking and heavy.
-Swollen to maximum capacity, they burst at the seams and infinite droplets of water fall to the receptive ground below.
-Happily to receive this gift of precipitation from the bursting clouds is the meandering river that slithers in long arch’s on the ground below.
-The river like the clouds is forever changing and forever free…



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