Catastrophe
This land of mountains high,
Rivers deep and cold
Formed by volcanoes, earthquakes
Violence and storm
Such beauty arising from the ashes
Such green grandeur
From the dark of the black
So what is to come of this drought
What is to come of the quake
The shaking of all our foundations
This threat to the heart of all life
What is to come of it?
A far greater beauty
Maybe a miracle of such great unknown
That few of us ever know
What really did happen
As we tend our gardens in peace and hope and love
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