Touching peaks of mountains high,
serenely moving in the sky.
Are the fluffy clouds as white as cotton,
with images formed yet not forgotten.
The minds of young and the old,
see forms in clouds and stories told.
Yes, they can be so serene,
but they can become real extreme.
They can change to black or gray,
blocking out the light of day.
Bolts of lightning can be within,
along with rain, hail and wind.
The funnel clouds are pure terror,
scattering debris everywhere.
In the vacuum they create,
they've taken man to his fate.
On the brighter side of things,
snow flakes fall and fill the springs,
Gushing from the sides of a mountain,
is cool crisp water from nature's fountain.
I've tasted water in my hand,
from Mother Nature it was grand.
Mankind's purifications can't compete,
with Nature's water cold and sweet.
So when you see a cloud pass by,
and find it pleasing to your eye.
Here's a thought to entertain,
there wouldn't be life without rain.