In the beginning the sky was cold butter,
hard and riddled with kernels of corn,
which, as the world heated, popped:
And thus the clouds were born.

i felt a presence as i walked
past its shadow between
restless sunbeams and
lazy dark patches

too small to fill a stadium and
too light to resist a breeze,
it could not muster the most
muted sigh of thunder

still, it singled me out from acres
of trees and multi-laid squares
of rooftop hide-aways

and followed—

to send a message of being
to an insignificant recipient

through a small break within
divided thoughts, into a brief
opening underneath—

a single drop, into a
downpour of
tears




"the cloud"
© 2008 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

Don’t let that black cloud
Rain on you.
Don’t let it soak
Your hair and cloak.

Sometimes it’s okay
To experience the drizzle,
Most often times,
No.

Don’t let that black cloud
Eat you up.
Don’t let it flood your mind
Of things that you can’t rewind.

That black cloud is inevitable,
Even I can’t stop the horrible
Droplets to land on my face.

Know that you can do something about it.
You can open your umbrella
Or wear your hat if you will.

Most importantly,
Remember that there will be a shining sun
After this terrible, terrible
Black cloud storm.

Sometimes I just want to cry
For no other reason than the clouds in the sky

Morning to
another moment.
Open the shades, lighten the dark
with intention.

See the
little clouds dapple:
free spirit beings
of their own.

I want the shade gone, but
I lift it every
Morning.

let me understand the clouds
their moods and patterns that

they display in the sky

a single cloud crosses the sky,
from the ground, we can watch it go by

holding my world up there high
in the sky, we look as time passes by

happy clouds, quiet clouds
calm, still clouds