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Trees shed evening rain

silver beads in morning light.

Who expected jewels from the sky?

Not I.

If I stood beneath, unfurled my fingers, I could reach out

and catch a drop or two.

But from my perch I’ll watch and view

nature’s work revealed in hues of green and see

how smart the branches, the darkened earth

to receive so simply and give back so freely

while whispering Love’s name.

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