Early morning,
the sun peeks over it's blanket
and yawns.
It rises with a warm drowsiness
slowly, slowly, it awakes.
High and yellow, burning.
Towering over all with a superiority
over its Earth.
It smiles at the sea
grass
clouds
The clouds...they dance a waltz
across a saphire field.
Midday they cry.
The sun hides from their hurt,
Opening it eyes a tear travels
down through the Turmoil
and shatters on Earth,
birthing a Rainbow.
 
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