A Sky covered ,from where the eye begins to see till the horizon, with an angry-looking accumulation of cumulonimbi ready to rain their wrath onto the puny land walkers below. They carry lightening rods forged by the Almighty Zeus and make loud rumbling sounds. To frighten the lot underneath their shadow into submission; to make them retreat behind the cover of their wooden doors and concrete roofs; to cower beneath shade and security like the pusillanimous wretches they truly are. Nothing compared to the mighty towers of the cumulus clouds. At least the clouds benefit the world and provide respite and water to those in dire distress; at least they can quench the thirst of the needy; at least they Give. Humans only take, they take apart and tear apart everything to satisfy their material pursuits. They would be struck by lightening, if the clouds had their way. They ought to be taught a lesson in a language understood by these parsimonious mortals, the linguistics of death, believe the clouds. But the clouds are wise and kind, they realize that the human race is a greedy infant ,still learning and trying to correct its mistakes. The clouds still hold hope for a better future, they still dream that maybe the prodigal son of Mother Earth will return and with him he’ll bring knowledge,love and respect for his entire family.