Like angry fists pummeling the soil
retaliated upon by their foe's
impenetrably peaceful stillness
the rain begs anguished, and
her thunder responds with
the dreaded certainty of fish,
as if a sky-tearing
pageant
were also an inversely evaporatory
ocean;
it is in the repentent quiet
between these heavenly tantrums
and the eternally forgiving heal
of re-emerging
softly as a caress
sunlight that foxes make their
cautious way through a
gently sobbing forest,
comforted by the trees' empathetic
drips,
to exchange their secret,
unwitnessably sacred
wedding vows.
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