The waters had adjusted well
to their new geographical condition,
begun to accept their gathered-up-ness,
and settled in their surface-flat surface.
They flowed to the heavens, cooing Blue!
Blue! Blue!
But the day the mountain came,
a pillar of sulfur rose
from the base of his spine and filled
up the sky. The waters
lashed their white arms
against his violent breast.
The waters they sang a circle of
steam round the nose of the mountain.
While the earth held its breath,
The waters reached into the sky
crying out Rain! Rain!
Rain!