November 7, 2011 (110 Miracles)

Like a raging sea.

Clouds hither and yon.

"S" in the midst

When forming shapes out of the rain clouds.

Projecting rays of the sun,

Hidden behind a fleecy mass of liquid droplets.

Eventually coming out

Beaming.

A cumulus cloudscape

Scenic.

Rippling puddles of water

On the cold black tar.

Skies are done crying.

It's all clear now

True multi-hued tones,

Painted across the firmament

In all authenticity.

A reviving spectacle.

It's beauty too awful for words.

110 miracles.

(Year Twenty-Eleven)