Clouds Now and Then Matter
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[ hear the song ]
Listen to poem:
Clouds control our climate,
with shade and reflection,
as parasols and blankets.
Way up there, they still somehow matter
they’re not illusions—
let's unravel their role and power.
Low clouds drift low—
cumulus, stratus, stratocumulus
white umbrellas drifting like ghost ships,
they cool the burning Earth,
they scatter and hurl back the sun’s glare.
These low clouds are most welcome.
They provide shadow and shade, and rain
for everyone to endure and survive.
High clouds sail as thin,
cirrus, cirrocumulus.
They let most sunlight pass through.
Their bright lace of ice crystals,
warms them within, and traps
Earth's upward-flowing heat.
So they act like a blanket, retaining heat,
warming the Earth's surface.
Contrails scar the clear blue sky above.
From iron wings of steel flying high,
they seed the sky with ice particles,
that add to the high clouds already there,
making more blanket coverings,
so the Earth retains more heat and warms.
Look at the clouds above you
hear their sighs,
watch their poems unfold in the sky,
as mirrors of changing times.
Our fate is now in their hands.
Will there be more parasols
than blankets in our skies?
For their relative numbers, controls
climate change on Earth.
We've looked at clouds from both sides now
From how they may make our lives
winners or loser in the future.
But still somehow it's clouds illusions I recall
I have no idea where our lives are headed,
when these clouds, get in our way!
when these clouds, get in our way!
Copyright © John Anderson | Year Posted 2025
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