She whispers my name... Only I can hear

Thursday, May 29, 2008

I've Looked At Clouds



Waking
Stirring
Reluctant
To leave my bed
It’s chilly

Outside the window
A blank page
Of
White

Foggy mornings
Are special
On the farm
I can hear
The neighbors
Back door
Hinges squeak
Then

Slam

Like it was right there
Though he lives
Almost a mile
Away

Somewhere
A dog barks
Lilacs tremble
The blackberries nod knowingly


Wet grass
Dripping
Wet shoes
Tripping
White fog
Slipping

Heading to the garage
Lost
In a white wonderland
It never gets old

Dew turns this place
Into magic
Early energetic sunbeams
Fight
And Fail
To get through

Redwing
Blackbirds
Agree
Loudly

Air
Is transparent
To sunlight
But fog
Is not

It begins to warm
And to lift
Waking
Stirring
Reluctant
To leave it’s bed

It clings
To the grass
Rising slowly
Trees hold
Lingering veils
Wisps of lace
Trailing behind
Gracefully letting go

As a cloud
Is born

With magnificent slowness
It takes to the Air
Joins the others
A vast
Beautiful ballet
In the sky

Air
Is transparent
To sunlight
And to me

Some is warmer
Some is moister
Some is denser
Some not so...
But these things
I cannot see

Learn what to look for
Ask of the wind
Listen to the wind
Watch the sky
The clouds will tell you
All these things and more

Air
May be invisible
But…

Clouds
Are where things
Are happening

6 comments:

human being said...

a sunny morning outside
a foggy one inside
i choose another window
opening not to our tiny yard
but to the other side of our life;
a painter has painted
a magnificent scene
a deja vu or what i've seen
i step into it
as Alice through the looking glass
things here are personified
and to them i can readily confide;
they stir or stay
tremble or trail
cling or rise
agree or fight
just like me
just like me
just like me
i feel i belong
i feel not alone
i am part of this world
its path... my path
whether straight or curled...

adi said...

i liked the fog waking up lazily with like i do on a cold winter morning :)
came here through human being
and will be coming again.

Honour said...

what a lovely tribute to clouds, bobbb. things are happening indeed ... how much we underestimate those places and things, like clouds, that just seem to be floating along, but carry much more. your words make me crave to find some space where blackberries nod knowingly too :) ahhh ... soon, when I take holidays in July !!

Lynn said...

Your words paint the most amazing pictures in my mind
they allow me to feel the moist air, smell the fresh air,
be one in the nature of where
you live.
What a treasure you give
thank you
thank you
thank you
so much.
so refreshing this.
I can still hear the din of the slammed back door from
miles and miles away.

Hopper said...

Table Top
=================

"As a cloud is born"

=================

There is a place called the table lands, a plateau, not where I belong though it's taken so many years to get from here to there with me, myself and I...

I think of myself as one of the climbers who love gave the power but took away the will...

An acipiter circles above, anxious for the kill, to large to be a sharp-shin, to small to be an eagle, a thin metal band on his ankle by which he's bound to our need to know...

A mist drops on the table, much quicker than mist should fall, and soaks my eyelashes with dew, making them clump and stick when I blink...

And the moist mingles with the countenance of the predator, like it could stick to this rock long after it's left my line of sight and we could all come together for just a moment at this height and quietness...

As a cloud is born...

Bobbb - Citizen of Earth said...

Nice HB
Glad you love being a part of it all
Stay
Be
Confide
Choose your path

Enjoy the ride

Welcome Adi
Thanks for the kind words
Enjoy your stay

Honour
Indeed
Clouds carry messages to me
And to you too
They are subtle
But obviously subtle
You know what I mean?

They put the face upon the sky
And the wind…
The wind gives her a voice

I hope the holidays take you somewhere nice.

Lynn
Thank you so much for all your kind remarks
I hope you will continue to find such happiness in the words, things and people you encounter.

Alas I do not live on the farm
I live in a small city about an hours drive away

I spend what time as I can there
We grow trees
Not Christmas trees
Long term, forest preserve
Trees

Over time the magic of that place
(Which is powerful indeed)
Has infiltrated my being
And helped set me on the right path

Ahhh Hopper
So you have been there
And seen it

On Giant MT
We could see the clouds Forming
As air compressed by high winds
Against the thousand foot cliff
Went streaming upwards in rushing clouds