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stormy weather

July 29, 2011

destiny is the rapids as well as the doldrums,

the cone of silence and the rolling thunder

.

yet notice how the unthinkable can happen

with or without being thought.

what limits there are in limited consciousness,

how much there is to lose

in shutting the blinds,

even as the storm approaches.

you might never leave Kansas.

.

for who cares for fate less than the storm clouds?

is fate a jigsaw puzzle

or a handful of cards?

a code to break, or a strategy to uncover?

watch it stretch around linear narrative

like a boa constrictor

and hear the story crack

.

clouds are travelers at heart.

they are miserable when gathered together

hanging low, sluggish, immobile like week-old mashed potatoes inverted in the sky.

when they move they come alive,

breaking, tearing,

leaping like dancers in

exquisite slow motion,

heading carelessly for another patch of sky

to hang like wisps, high, floating …. crayon line

or to billow, pillow, stand on their hind legs and stretch,

operatic, multi-toned,

tower over a city and cover it

with their elemental blessing

then progress through the countryside,

unloading,

filling rivers, filling ponds,

filling puddles,

until they come to the sea.

… and then they fill the sea

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