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Choose curious eyes,
Walk the world like spies.
Above your storms and furnaces,
There is so much sky to thank for

Yet, you see:
Grief of dismissed events
In these funny-shaded clouds.
The rain falling, my friend
Is to wash away aching pasts
So, in times of sinister spontaneity,
Won’t you close your eyes, spread your arms, and dance in heaven’s stream?

@Sircharlesthepoet