You've heard per chance of String Theory,
Blessed is the Hymn whose 5-note name Everlasting!
I smell the rains tonight come in sheets into the port city where I live.
I thrill to see the rivers of the streets resulting run rampant
diked by curbs, cascading into the sewer lines,
from there flowing onward to the sea in slips,
back up again rising into clouds and down once more in sheets
as has happened in the before when Earth fumed,
and from magnum torrents emerged the green, green isles
of the Pacific.
Reality is change.
Change is Master. Change is Mistress.
It is for said reason that when the parking lots beggars of me inquire
if I have spare change, I must respond in truth:
Spare change does not exist!
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