Clouds

Clouds we see them many ways
From in our face to far away

They may be huge or very small
White as light or dark as coal

They catch the fire of the setting sun
To hold it till the day is done

The moon does strike them late at night
And lightning flashes brake them bright

They guide the suns way back at dawn
To fortell that day will come

Along the ground so soft and damp
They reflect the power from our lamp

To blind our eyes with sheets of white
We must slow down to see what's right

When dark they roll before our sight
Their power can turn day to night

But when the sky is bright and clear
We pray for them to reappear