Fay Slimm.

I Am Cloud.

 

 

I Am Cloud.

 

I am Cloud, the powerful offspring
of air, water and earth.

Like a blanket I hang under Sun\'s heat, binding his fire
away from low thrones with my cold fleece.

I Cloud am skilled at basking below heaven\'s blue dome
to nurse sky\'s mood as
I scan the air carrying blasts of wind for anything
daring to trespass on my line of duty.

I sleep in the restive arms
of hurricanes and wrap snow-storms under my toes.

I am Cloud who hides bolts of lightning
between huge thighs,
who controls every rain-shower and who can send hail\'s
deluge on all who offend my pride.

Yet I often allow that maiden Moon to peep into my
bedroom or break through my roof.

I have to smile too when night-stars play
hide and seek round the edge
of my white flimsy frock and shine like dots of elfish
diamonds when they
find a hole or two in my overcoat pocket.

Sunsets and rainbows induce me to stretch horizontally,
broadening myself in their colourful hues
and if I feel inclined after night, come the morning my
yawn drenches all below me in dew.

Yet I, Cloud can ride in a moment like fury over five
miles of ocean or mountain to strike,
for I am nature\'s changeling who refuses to die.

I am Cloud who appears out of nowhere.

I can rise like a sprite from clear air
and as a babe from the womb I can, in but a second
let out my genii who bites with forked lightning
any denial of my rightful area.

So beware as I glide past to whom you laugh as you try
to blow me away with foolishness

as if you were my master.