Clouds

Flying by in broken Thought. Eagles soaring just below thy midst as ye role sweetly to the west and northernly. Just aft a cooling storm. Just aft the cooling of my being form gifts dropping abruptiously amongst the heavens. Perhaps to drowse another brethren of man. To give thy sweet brethren more good news from God's abode. Tell me sweet grand sea constellation from which sweet ocean do ye come? Great! is the news from the Creator of all. Even from the light that some of my Brethren and i call the sun. The Sun. Oh! Great God in the heavens, The Son. piercing thy spaces Dark sun blocking mass of dewy crowning womb- Yet to give birth but dropping dottedly the prophecy of your dreams. Giving new birth to the land and all Earth's inhabitants. As the Son of man watches from the heavenly throne and from a birds vantage all is being seen. Great is this Eagle soaring as peaceful as a Dove. As birds coo soothingly perched upon the wires of man. Gusting gale bringing thunder to my thoughts and flashes to my mind. Cool drops and mist whisping to my unclothed body and dampening the cloth.