of the world the great oceans
of clouds gathering or self-effacing
that have no fixed abode
the warmth against the cold
the dry against the moist
clashing in monumental battles
inserting their spears of light
or fluttering down in ashy flakes
stirring the volcanoes into rumbling
the earthquakes to answer back
but they might as well be using
sign language to try to warn
us
that what we have the power
to destroyonly they have the power to bring back
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