Cloud Puffball 

Another day has dawned in downtown Asdee and the moonlight has given way to a splendid blue sky. Horizons were laced yesterday with clouds, bright grey edged with white brightness.

Gerard Manly Hopkins springs to mind:

“Cloud-puffball, torn tufts, tossed pillows flaunt forth, then chevy on an air-built thoroughfare. Heaven roysters,in gay gangs, they throng, they glitter in marches.”

I remember the sheer madness of Hopkins’ language when we first read it at school as we began to first realise where words on a page can bring one. As children we laid in the fields on summer days and looking at the sky saw different shapes roll by. ‘Twas much more imaginative than the iCloud! It was the original cartoon series.

“That tall distance where the cloud begins” as Mary Oliver mentioned, puts me in touch with the infinite. What are we doing here at all, at all?

William Stafford has a pointer in “Crossing Unmarked Snow ”

“The things you do not have to say make you rich 

Saying the things you do not have to say weakens your talk.

Hearing the things you do not have to hear dulls your hearing.

And the things you know before you hear them-those are you. Those are why you’re in the world.”

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