Clouds

CLOUDS

We take them for granted, but they are miracles in themselves. They defy gravity, they water the crops and quench our thirst. They give protection. They are luminous. And when one is cold enough, crystals burst from it in the form of snow, which scientists do not understand.

O’ER MY HOME A BRIGHTENED CLOUD
O’er my home a brightened cloud,
Lower than is e’er allowed.
Ten feet tall and not so wide,
Waiting as I walked outside.

Cumulus, a puffy ball,
Static, unmoved like a wall.
Just a few feet from my roof …
With a camera … I’d have proof!

Not another in the sky …
Twinkling stars, moon on the rise.
Moonlight set my cloud afire,
As I grew sleepy and tired.

I stepped ‘round beside my house —
Timid, frightened like a mouse.
“Lord, is that you?” I spoke out.
Though no voice … I had no doubt.

I stepped back to see it all.
Was it summer? Was it fall?
No, the grass was thick and wet,
Leaves, they were not falling yet.

At one corner … a wing tip.
I thought nothing more of it.
But ‘twas there: An angel? No.
Trapped inside the cloud like snow?

Dazzled, but sleep beckoned me;
I had seen all I could see,
So I reasoned to go in.
Now the real show would begin:

At that moment like on cue
That cloud rose above my view.
Surely it will hit those trees!
But it cleared them all with ease.

And the wing tip, what of it?
It had not moved, not a bit.
At that moment like on cue …
It broke off, fading from view.

Now I sit and ponder still,
Nearly three years will be filled
Since the cloud rose over me.
Meaning … what will meaning be?