Ode to a Cloud (old notebooks)

To reach your soft and billowed body

Was why man built his wings.

No wonder songbirds sing uplifting!

Peace and beauty, all is yours,

With your presence the sky is graced.

You catch the sun in your silver sheets

All for the joy of giving sunbeams

Liberation to the ground.

And with what power, what moving majesty

You gather for the storm.

Slowly growing, slowly stronger

You join and mount your forces

Like a dark army forming ranks.

Suddenly, your mass begins to boil,

'Till all of nature stands in awe

Of your furious symphony.