JONATHAN GRIFFIN - “Blessed are the Clouds”

Nights—the long interims—when for a time
one’s mind is stifled in the stardust-storm…

       Yet day does come—again all’s well—
       suddenly a half-hidden tower
               is warming the whole square
with the Doge-crimson velvet of its bells

       I can feel each cloud as a thing
and seem to touch its turrets and to think
               the great curve of its birth
               and find then I am thanking
               watershepherdess Earth

Some nights, too, there are clouds silvered by Death
       sailing laden with star-oblivion

               or hurled clouds have lost form
and brought mercy muffling all the stars from us