Clouds

A white mist of swirling elements, thick enough to feel. A mass of molecular miracle-makers, united under one life-changing purpose. Its circular path, its goal of global restoration, Brings healing, prosperity, and survival to the nations. Slowly and surely they follow the winds of their master, En masse they flood the skies, and congregating under one banner, through providence, through trials and strife they bring the rains. No gathering such as these deserves a drizzle. Nay, let call for a downpour! Let the rain fall down, Washing the earth of its failures, Or covering the earth in white, Frozen or wet, let it fall! Let the lightning strike hard, Let the beacon be seen, For it is a call to those who will answer, Those who would follow a righteous King. Let the thunder roll, from the beacon forth, So that every man has no excuse. They can deny the flash, but they are doomed to hear, The evidence of the beacon’s command. They’re white mists of swirling elements, thick enough to feel. But they’re also molecular miracle-makers, united under one life-changing purpose. And on their circular path, their goal of global restoration, They will bring healing, prosperity, and more than just survival to the nations. They will bring life.