Would indeed the clouds
puddle neath the prying eye
of Sol
set so high above that to him
not even the giants with lightning
are specks on the cornea
to in dazed distraction watch flit
across the surface

Surely not ruled by Sun
yet slaves to him no less
they billow with angry heads
throwing their own sharp spikes
earthward

at humans....mere mortals
that would themselves not be much more
to cloud
than cloud is to sun

Still...
I would feel the drops from such passings
trickle across bare skin
and dance in pagan delight
defying insignificance
while rejoicing in
being touched by both

I Would that you
Could find the way
To touch me too