Tales From A Passing Cloud Poem by Thomas Vaughan Jones

I see you all from here!
Little ants, scurrying around in
a chaos of your own creation.

Each one too busy for the beauty
in the world.

I see great mountains, wearing
snow capped hats, tipped to greet
their friend the sky.

I see deep oceans, dressed in
green and blue, garnished with silver
flashes of shoaling fish, and
rippling waves, like little horses
running home.

I see our Mother Earth
who binds us fast in a whirl
of green fields and shaded forests.

But you, little ants, tear down
the mountains and pollute the
sea. The sky is darkened
and the stars grow dim
before your touch.

While we, the clouds,
created to refresh the
world, pass on by,
shedding our tears
in a scalding cascade
of bitter rain.