A Perfect Cloud sits as mist mountain
Pointing latent vapours in every direction
Presiding over a blue sky
About to be changed
As it is ever changed.
The cloud reminds us of transience.
Shortly thereafter we are again left to our devices;
Ably bodied as rats but better meterologists perhaps,
Confused animals beneath a tower, a fountain of nature's will.
What drives clouds transformation from multi liqui-nuclei
Into its new multi-nuclei and latent downpour
Only the cloud knows for sure
-A cloud has not a tongue but simply morphs-
And the meterologists hazard intelligent but wet guesses
Under an umbrella of science
Blueish-Whiteish-Greyish&Fluffy are its tags
-A cloud has not a blog but simply morphs-
It drifts, it wanders as All know
And can hide the moon & sun from below
-A cloud has not got GPS but simply morphs-
A cloud simply is and there's nothing we can do about it except...
Morph
'Dublin, March 26th 2008'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting read, Hugh. Thanks. Don