I am the daughter of earth and water,
And the nursling of the sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.
For after the rain when with never a stain
The pavilion of heaven is bare,
And the winds and sunbeams, with their convex gleams,
Build up the blue dome of air,
I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,
And out of the caverns of rain,
Like a child from the womb, like the ghost from the tomb,
I arise and unbuild it again.
Shelley ( last verse of The Cloud )
Hi the name is Keith and live in NZ. Ever since I trained to be a Meteorological Observer, many years ago, I have never lost the the fascination of Clouds and Weather. In a theatre we watch a play enhanced with a backcloth yet we can be entertained and stunned by Nature every day before what could rightly be termed a Top cloth