Excerpt: From the Mundane to the Magical

(An excerpt from From the Mundane to the Magical: A Lifetime of Poetic Moments)

Above and Below the Clouds

I love the lightness of the clouds flying through uninhabited space,
Leaving earth, sea and life below, well away from a man-made place.
The puffs of paleness, the wispy wafts, the feathered plumes, the boundless bales.
Floating tundra’s for flying ships with windy ways for trailing sails.

The rumbling rows of puffy piles, the multi-layers of grey, white and blue.
The tumbling troughs that go on for miles, like laden snow in shadowy hue.
Like whipped frosting, white cotton candy, or candy stuffs of sugar puffs,
That’s what they seem – a sweetened dandy, when all they are, are gaseous tufts.

Yet on they roll like billowing fans, they mount, they tumble, streak and splay,
Like smoke that spans or rippling sands, their wildness looks as if they play.
The heat that rises, the roaring jets, the cold and wind that shape their drifts.
The shadows dark, shade and silhouettes, the mist and rain, these are their gifts.

Their rolling rifts of silent softness, the booming squalls that shower down.
The towering tents of air’s loft’ness, the silver lining of heaven’s crown.
Sometime like a snowy meadow, a glistening glaze of frosty faience
Or a sunset river with pinkish-red glow, or sparkling jewels all teases and taunts.

And when it rains in strong downpour, the clouds turn dark with heavy brow
The thunder moans its mighty roar, and rain falls down to keep its vow.
And when the clouds do open wide, like open blinds of fingered light,
Life below can no longer hide, but accept the blue from a great height.

Bright light falls fast through windows roun’ and upon the land to make it wake.
The lacy light comes filtering down on prairie, mountain, town and lake.
Like mirrors sparkling off the ground, the water ways reflect their course,
Although the clouds are frothy gowned, white wisps in water show their source.

When clouded sun begins to set, its golden light streams down like gold
Where land and sky at horizon have met, the earth shows brilliantly and bold.
Above the clouds – where I like to be, the air so light and clouds so white.
The hovering, heavenly clouded sea is still my favorite flying sight.