Cumulonimbus

They float as cotton candy

toys for children to shape

as they lay upon their backs

In the green grass of summer

Seeing forms configure in sun

Sometimes they pass with only

a moment of shadow falling over the

the laughter of childhood innocence–

Sometimes they darken and pour

rain upon barefoot children running

Meteorological cumulonimbus oft times

a pastime – other times a rainstorm benign

But then there is the cumulonimbus of the soul

A different breed altogether- these do not float for

Often anger is a lagging latent cloud

rising unseen –from the its grave of toxic blood waste

Mecurial and unstable – activated by a simple word

or blade of veritable non-sense that

opens a vein and in an extravagant

Show of outrage silver thunderheads

gather and chalk the landscape of the soul

from the topmost to inner core until cumulonimbus

explode into storm - pouring, pounding - on and on and on

drowning all in its wake until spent innocent wide-eyed children

peek from their hiding places and when safe

venture out again upon wet green grass

to imagine shapes in the puffs drifting

through blue skies