They say the train appears
only when the night is deciding
whether to keep its secrets.
It rises through the clouds,
steam curling like old prophecies
that forgot their endings.
The moon watches closely,
amber and patient,
as if it has seen this journey
a thousand times
and still refuses to explain it.
No passengers ride inside.
Only choices~
the ones people almost made,
the ones they feared,
the ones they lost in the noise
of daylight.
The conductor is a quiet figure,
hooded, ageless,
guiding the engine along a track
stitched from cloud-light.
He never speaks,
but every so often
he leans out the window
and drops a single spark
toward the sleeping world below.
If it lands near you,
you wake with a thought
you didn’t have yesterday~
a direction you hadn’t considered,
a door you didn’t know
you were allowed to open.
By dawn, the train dissolves
into the pale sky,
its myth intact,
its work unfinished.
And somewhere,
someone rises from bed
with a new certainty
they swear arrived
from nowhere.
Cloud Haiku
the billowing clouds
omen of coming thunder storms
fill the air with dread
The stars are jellyfish,
The planet is a cloud.
Now our only wish
Is to touch the ground.
We live in space
In a hot air balloon
Longing to see the face
Of the Man on the Moon
cloud burst bursting drops;
drizzles sprinkle fine mist drops;
out pour down falls teem;
~
precipitation,
weathered Vrochi to rain pelt;
quick waters flow down;
8/24/26
written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026
Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 5 7 5 0 5 7 5
Total # Syllables: 34
Total # Lines: 7 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 24
Who fashions the waves with his hands into a garment?
Who bore all sins on his body, Hung on a tree like a curse?
Yeshua The Lord of Hosts sent the Prophets to Jerusalem.
Who created all things and for who were all things created?
Who formed us in our mothers wombs with his mighty right hand?
Yeshua King of Kings and True Bright and Morning Star.
Who walked on the sea calmed the same sea and fed five thousand with only a basket worth of food? Who do you say he was and Is?
Yeshua Everlasting Father and Mighty God who told the end from the Beginning.
Yeshua the Cloud Smith who sits on high and will return riding the clouds who created all things and nothing that has been created that he did not create.
CLOUD OF MUD
It is not a white cloud.
It is not a dark cloud.
It is a cloud of mud.
It doesn´t indicate the presence of the sun;
It doesn´t announce a rainy day.
It is a mix of water and dirt
It is not a white cloud.
It is not a dark cloud.
It is not a cloud.
The cloud looked down in silent shame -
'Oh! What do I do? My lighting kills!'
The strong winds blew it to pastures green -
'O Look down now - your rainfall heals!'
Dancing upon cotton candy,
You dream your sweet dreams,
Believing the world is all sugar and streams.
You, a first kiss on a cotton candy cloud,
Believing the world was yours, unbowed.
Beneath the moonlight,
Your solitary form shines bright.
Sometimes thin, like a cloud,
Scattered and foggy, it drifts,
Softly down or too high,
Silent mist turns to art,
Shadows grow dark and heavy,
Sunlight makes it bright and moving,
Steady shield, just a cloud like me.
Figure of Eight got me thinking
It's infinity on its side!
Eight days a week, I rode till dawn.
Slipping behind eight ball's shadow.
On Cloud Eight, with just one to come.
While strumming eight-note blues on drums;
I figured eight had found me out~
Swirling around its loopty-loops.
Seems like a foam
White as pure as
Soul of a child
Smooth like cotton
Light as kind as
Feather of some bird
High in the sky
Just like our thoughts
We call it a cloud.
Skied opposite to
Puffy faced, too
More rigid through fear
Tree, cloud meeting.
On noticing this
I went back in!
Clued into, unseen
If forewarned, been
That darker, will-grown
Of that, heard for.
No trite psychotic!
Bangs, bursts a door.
A blanket of cloud stretches
Obscures, keeps us blind
But I like to think there could be dragons
Flying just behind
Beyond the hefty, leaden skies
That endless cloak of grey
Brightly coloured reptiles
Might romp around and play
The weather here is usually
Dull and overcast
The valley stays in shadow
But if we could just see past
We might catch a glimpse of fire
Beyond that drab cloud cover
Dragons doing somersaults
Swooping with each other
There could be dragons behind the clouds
Maybe not, I wouldn’t know
Isn’t it nice to think
That they could be up there, though
The moon curls up into the
night,
And fluffs a cloud of downy
white.
He tucks the stars into their
beds,
With silver blankets over their
heads,
Then softly find his golden
light.
Cloud Patterns
white peaceful patterns
float lazily overhead
I’m lost in my thoughts
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