
I would like to thank J.B. and Michelle for leaving comments in the form of poetry. They were both exceptional thoughts:
Mammatus Clouds by J.B. Rowell
Lord, it can’t be real your entrails stretched and twisted gauzing storm scrubbed sky
Mammatus Clouds by Michelle Buchanan
mammatus, mother
Earth, the egg
in the womb of nature
I wasn't going to write a poem on this until I read Michelle's post regarding David Harsent's workshopping task to write about conflict. And this photo came to mind. So I hope you like my attempt, "Mammatus Clouds" by Michael Parker:
There is evidence here.
God is preoccupied. In this quaking of clouds heaven buckles and the ethereal ground fights for normalcy against some gray poison sliding off the flat blue sky, slipping into the sleep of a soldier trapped in its trenches dreaming plagues and pestilence seen in death visions.
We watch and watch and wait for the sound of missiles cracking against a troubled expression of sky we wait for the electric rods to drop wait for the bursting of a thousand fires and wait for the colored rain to start-- a leaching of tears we do not know nor do we know how God stays silent now.
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