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The Day Will Come

The clouds go galloping off

like Clydesdale plow horses,

powerful, majestic, thunderous. 

They leave cleansing, cooling rains

that wash clean the dimly painted sky. 

A million shimmering stars

wink against the pristine night,

glisten, gleam, and glow,

calling to the One they know,

telling of His glorious greatness. 

In wordless, breathless praise

announce the dawning of the day

when the light comes crashing in. 

Then clouds can be no more

and all is made to sparkle. 

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