Wednesday, March 26, 2008


My favorite time and place to observe clouds is when flying (as long as there is no turbulence! Then I close my eyes, grip my armrests and keep telling myself it’s just like riding down a bumpy country road. My self then answers back, “Yeah right, except for the enormous amount of distance between you and the earth!”)

I really like it when I am flying over the ocean, and the sky and the sea below are the same color, with some puffy white clouds in between to blur the line between the two. It’s like being suspended inside a snowglobe that hasn’t been shaken.

I do find it very curious that clouds can “pack a punch”. They mostly appear (even when grey) wispy and harmless, but man, they can throw an airplane around like nobody’s business. For this reason, I have to say that in general, I distrust clouds. They can be very fickle, floating serenely above your head one moment, bombarding you with rain, sleet or snow the next. Personally, I think they should give a little more warning. Perhaps they could turn a bright orange or something.

Green clouds are never good; that usually means a tornado is headed your way. Of all the clouds in the world, tornadoes are definitely the ones I distrust the most!

I leave you with my favorite cloud quote. Said Mary this past weekend when we all tumbled outside to admire the sunset , “It looks like somebody vomited cotton candy. But in a good way!”

When I see a cloud I always think of what it represents. Clouds, to me, point to something else. They are like metaphors that way. So, I picked a theme and ran with it in the form of poetry. It’s mediocre poetry (at best), but I had fun playing around, all the same. I hope you enjoy it.

Doubts appear as clouds;
reared in mist,
they move and shift.
Fear grows
and never seems to show
there is a top-side
white in light
(or gold and bold).

Doubts appear as clouds,
but hope is the burst
though doubt may come first.

Without the droplet there would be no cloud,
and doubt is but the seed of hope.
So, do not fear doubt.

Hope is a question,
an experiment with uncertainty,
like a cloud
that shifts with
changing pressure.
I could not hope without a push.

I do not know
what tomorrow unfolds,
and so
I hope.

If I knew
what the cloud would do,
I would
not hope.


Yes, fear is real,
but it is only the drop
and love is the cloud that reigns.
Fear cannot have the last word.

Even seeds of doubt breed hope.
Even tiny fears leave in love.

Doubt is but a vapor.
Fear is only mist.

Shhh, my child.
Do not be afraid of the clouds.
They are bigger than the drops.
Rest, my child.
This too shall pass.

1 comment:

Mary Clara said...

I feel so honored to be quoted in your blog:)!