A Round of Cloud

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A Round of Cloud

The moon’s a round of cloud this morning,
the milkweed cloud strands–
what’s rock is wisp; what’s fine immense;
everything becomes its other–frost sparking
the fields–everything being
what it truly is, sometimes.

It tells me
that what I think is big is small; that what I discount, counts,
and I can’t help but notice, that even on this calmest of days,
stalks shift, spores waft, the clouds traverse
with footless continuity the blue,
and there, at the farthest edge
of my hearing, a stream
runs on.

It tells me, I tell myself,
that I must change my life.

But immediately after this telling,
I despair–
knowing that the moon, the grass, the milkweed,
don’t really care what I will or not–
they won’t pat some special spot
upon my head, send me particular caresses
of even breezy encouragement,
and change–the idea
that I can–feels
like my own cloud puff.

I sit down, slightly slumped,
when  a crow caws, raucous,
and me, being thoroughly human,
find commentary, a taunt–
but also something to hold to–
hope–
as if nature, in its kindness,
were sending me a sign,
knowing that I speak squawk
so much better than
moon, cloud, milkweed,
knowing that I may need
dark wings.

***********************************

Here’s a second poem written thinking about Eugenio Montale after Grace’s prompt on With Real Toads.  I don’t know if I can post two for the prompt, so may link it up to Real Toads Open Link Night. 


I’ve actually been writing a lot this weekend!  (And may end up posting more than I should.)   Trying to avoid all the things I am supposed to be doing!  Thanks as always for your support and encouragement.  Also, please, if you have time, consider checking out my new book Nice or any of my old books.  

 

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19 Comments on “A Round of Cloud”


  1. What a joy to see more from you Karin.. this was a true joy to read. I think the milkweed only taunts is with that lightness, that we lack.. maybe much better to look for those black wings..


  2. A wonderful read. The wisp of the moon, cloud and milkweed and the symbolism it entails touches a chord with the fragility of human nature, and the sign of the nature leading to that realization : How thoughtful! 🙂
    -HA

  3. brian miller Says:

    ah the milkweed is awesome….we love to play in it….and i think nature gives us plenty of hints and suggestions…on how to live…


  4. I like this poem. I’ve had similar thoughts/feelings when the “natural” world around me “speaks” to my nothingness. I suspect that ancient peoples had a sense of reverence for what we call the natural world and that we modern people have mostly lost it. But I think if we don’t get it back we will perish. I like the way so-called primitive people took on the attributes of animals in their ceremonies. I think we need to find ways to do that and stop the kind of anthropomorphizing that we do.

    • ManicDdaily Says:

      Yes, you are right– we try to make people animals and ignore our animal nature and connectedness. And our lives are mostly so far out I the natural world. I am so lucky lately to be able to spend more time outside. Thanks, Mark, for stopping by. K.

  5. Grace Says:

    Goodness this is lovely K ~ I am always amazed at how nature teaches us, as if there is an infinite wisdom in the moon, milkweed, the stream moving on and on ~ That second stanza specially moves me ~

    Good to see you so productive K ~ Have a good week ahead ~

  6. ds Says:

    Truly enjoyed reading this, and relate so well alas “change…feels/like my own cloud puff”. We long to be the milkweed, and sometimes even are, yet there is that need for dark wings. Beautiful stuff. Thank you.

  7. Polly Says:

    I love this, k. It’s as light and airy as the wispy clouds and milkweed. Thought-provoking and elegant.


  8. You had me at the title… but then went on to so exactly describe my mood these days that I felt startled, relieved and visited all at once. This is a treasure.

  9. hedgewitch Says:

    This has all the contradiction inherent in the human condition summarized beautifully, karin–nature is not something separate from us, it does speak, move, constantly immerse and surround us, but because we have these little clusters of cells in our skulls that are a freakshow of mutant specializations, we often feel separate or severed from it–and we each feel it individually in our own ways–your spirit animals(or objects, I guess one would call clouds and milkweed) are as alive as the narrator, and it’s very human that the speaker sees their lessons but knows they are given without any personal involvement–because we are different, and must always feel that distance, I suppose, though I think it’s quite possible to make the journey back to simplicity–if our neurons can be settled down–(I am off into Dalai Lama territory now! ;_)) Anyway, this is a lovely, musical, thoughtful poem where you once again use your unique voice to point out things we don’t think about enough–and gorgeous pic of the milkweed blowing, too!.


  10. There’s SO much that I love about this poem, K…the monologue and the sign in squawk…that resonates with me, too…it feels to me that this poem questions the interconnectedness and then arrives at an answer by the end, contemplative and great. Thank you.

  11. Kerry O'Connor Says:

    This has a real sense of intimacy about it – I felt like I was party to your thoughts (as expressed in stream of consciousness) and admire the wisdom and philosophy inspired by the milkweed, the cloud and the moon.

    Lovely.

  12. grapeling Says:

    it seems asclepias spoke to us both ~


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