Rachel Jacobs, Member 55,934 wrote told us she “created a poem for the firmly-minded purpose of the well-being of the clouds”. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
The Clouds of Life
A round of life, and that of death
Who beckons those away.
Who steals the knife, who steals the breath
Of those who yearn to stay.
Of brevity, of shortness
Rather infant fresh demise,
Of lives and souls of drifting wisps,
Of youth with all but lies.
To them they are of Cirrus
Who crane their necks to see,
A faintly there, but there alas,
Of actuality.
Of those who seek revenge,
Who sought and seek and went,
To all the spitting measures
But never reached content.
Altocumulus they turn,
Their souls reach up and are,
Through hills and dales they try and fail
A moon without a star.
And gentlemen and ladies
With motives good and true,
Who shine through after darkness
And honour through and through,
These noble ones at heart,
Who learned in the lore,
Become all the fair cumulus
In kindness evermore.
And it comes, by-and-by,
From solid, sinking, be,
To serene drifting sighs,
Of man dustpaned by me.
Swept away by rolls of clouds
With kerchief, breath and shroud,
For life nor death can sunder
All the love to man endowed.
© Rachel Jacobs 2022
For so many people, nature has become a luxury. A privilege. Something reserved for those who can afford to jet off to their villas in the tropics, heli-ski in the Canadian Rockies, or sail away on their yachts. Getting into nature for most now requires getting AWAY from something else. Our jobs, suburban developments, and our insanely over-scheduled lives. This disconnect and restriction feeds directly into the sense of having no control over one’s dreams and desires. That we MUST push away our need for nature and beauty and freedom, because our lives demand focus elsewhere. Nature, however, has provided us with a constant gift, if we’d only learn where to look for it.
