When The Clouds Fall Down

When the earth is warm,
And the air is cool,
The clouds fall down to mingle
with a world normally out of touch.

They catch up with the worms and the grass,
Chat for a while with the sleepy squirrels;
But ignore the birds they say,
Those facetious birds,
Who have the best of both worlds,
Drifting along in the sky with the clouds,
And if they so choose,
Float back down again.

No. The clouds don't talk with the birds
For their jealousy is great.
They must wait until the earth is asleep and snuggled away
In its bed of rocks and blankets of dirt,
To sneak down and cozy up
With the animals and the people
That they so long to kiss,
Never knowing that the people wish to kiss them back.

For the people don't talk with the birds
For their jealousy is great.
They must create metal wings which may crash and burn
In failure,
To graze those clouds
With their fingertips,
That yearn for the cool touch of the clouds,
Never knowing that the clouds wish to touch them back.

And if the people don't talk with the birds,
And the birds don't talk with the clouds,
Then everyone must wait,
Wait for the earth to be warm,
And the air to be cool.