I Think Of Clouds At 3 A.M. Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

I think of clouds at 3 a.m.
And wonder what became of them
Rose bright and gilded by the sun
Now they by moonlight dream upon
The beauty of their former days
And wistful turn the other way
To show their faded side in still,
Dark shadows on the darker hills
I think of clouds and wonder why
They comfort me
As if nearby
Though looking out I cannot see
And yet I feel them, driftingly
Then think I of the living God
Who reigns and lives
some say above
But I think more consolingly
Like clouds He's likely
still with me
though I cant prove it visibly who made all beauty
out of Love
Who made the clouds rose gilded when
In daylight they like flowers bloomed
blazing in late afternoon.
mary angela douglas 23 april 2024