To comprehend a cloud creeping across the firmament-
too distant to touch, too slow to surmise-
cannot be done with impatient eyes, quick
to assume each cloud a static symbol
stroked with an identical brush onto a solid blue sky,
to deem their taste like cotton candy: sweet
but airy- Might suffice as milk but never as meat,
to declare them pretty scenery just to make you think.
To comprehend a cloud requires a longer reach
than one can make from his seat. The mystery
of its composition requires he step outdoors,
stand on tiptoes with hands and mind willing
to stretch an impossible distance for a grasp at understanding.
It starts with a drop, then a drizzle before it pours,
drenches you with water and thunder to cool
your summers or chill your winters, but wake you either way.
To comprehend a cloud is
to discover Heaven’s oceans.
Only gods walk on water, though fools try,
but the more patient will happily wade.
No hidden treasures hide within its depths except
the manna to sustain you in the wilderness.
The greedy dam it up a banquet for the maggots,
the foolish let it drain as something they’ve already seen,
the one who understands holds out a cup and drinks.