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In gliding above
you see patterns
of such things-
bland neighborhoods
and the symmetry
it brings

Crops cross the country
like a chess board
of seeds,
producing for the masses
between skylines and weeds

Cities are diminished
in scope
and in noise,
until districts are models
and cars look like toys

There are highways
that weave to no end,
until you brush them
on arrival in descent

You see tides
that rage
without crashing,
far from beaches
so they dance

Blue skies
compose reflections
in oceans,
of clouds
in frozen explosions

From these elevations
bursts a light show below,
as humanity unites
where darkness will flow