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Sunday, November 28, 2010

Rolling Thunder

Layered like a small child stumbling in from the cold
Clouds tumble tumultuously towards me, overbearing and cruel
Standing below, I look up at something much larger than me
I stare in awe of the streaking bolts of fire searing their way across a blackened sky
The booming thunder rolls in, blanketing me.
Raining down around me thousands of soldiers commit to a jihad, the ground their enemy.

This feels like home.

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