Holly Payne-Strange, Member 52,979, from New Jersey was enjoying the clouds at Thanksgiving when she dreamt up this poem.  We’ve paired it with an image of a Circumzenithal Arc over Broadway, NYC, US by Judy Schramm

To Have the Honor of a Cloud

Ice crystals in the sky,
Reflecting sunlight, conjuring shadow
An ever moving gallery of whimsy.

It sounds like magic.

Surely it should be, by all rights
This beauty we ignore, day by day.
I think it’s because they’re so far away,
Glory and valor we assume is out of reach.

There’s a certain proud nobility about them,
Stately and serene.
It all seems so easy, slow, even boring.
An illusion fostered by distance and assumption.

I can’t help but think
That if only we looked,
Really looked, and noticed, and appreciated,
Then maybe grace could be an everyday occurrence.
Maybe we would notice.

Lofty ideals, unencumbered and honest,
Could curl above us
Natural as the wind.
Maybe generosity would need no excuse
And sincerity would be easily accepted,
Suspicion and shame falling like shadow,
To some distant terrain we can’t imagine.

I have to say,
When I think of you,
I only see the clouds.

© Holly Payne-Strange