Scudding

scudding cloud over Newhall. Photo Mr. G.

SCUDDING

I have always had a delight
in the word,
‘scudding’.

So it pleased me, this morning,
to see the wispy, untamed,
wind – driven clouds,
‘scudding’ across the sky,
pure white
against sun-kissed blue.

Quite free in movement
and progress,
requesting, nor requiring,
any action of mine.
Shape-changers in a cosmic dance;
reminder that this world  is not mine
to control.

God waves merrily as he passes by.

Mr.G.
17th September 2022

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