These Clouds

“God forces us to quantify our religious tenants by measuring them against the family problems they solve. If your religious beliefs aren’t solving family problems then something is broke"

These clouds are heavy, for they’re mine in the sky.
I’ve begged for Summer’s rain, but they’ve left my crops dry.

Season after season, I slave harvest to a legacy of demise.
No fruits from this labor, yet I’ll reseed with no surprise.

Rewind the hands of time to when love was able to sow.
Let the tears from the years of hurt fertilize by the rivers they’ll flow.

Tomorrow’s a new forecast, predicts these clouds to drift insight.
With my cycle of delusion, I’ll continue to work throughout the night.

I hold onto those memories, a time when they had water to spare.
Now they gather before this mountain, leaving nothing but air.

They’ve left my acreage dead, yet so loyal I’ve become.
I’m afraid I have no choice, but to convert towards solar for sun.

I’ll soak in the light, use their spark of new unrest.
I’ll distribute this power to family, but not the clouds I address.

My fields once filled with soil, laid framework for your arrival.
Now crowded with views of concrete, laying seed is not vital.

These clouds come back heavy, still their mine in the sky.
Although they’ll pour down with rain, my concrete’s better off dry.

- Brandon Yaeger