I wrote this poem back in 2009 when I was on travel in San Antonio, Texas.

The clouds stand majestically in the big blue sky of Texas

like a herd of giant white long horn cattle, they graze above us

unaware and uninterested in what is going on below them

 

Over the hills they go, over the plains,

over the deserts and cannons

even over the cities … they stretch out in every direction

 

Oh, you fat, lazy clouds of Texas

There are no corrals to keep you in or barbwire fences to block your way

There are no cowboys to round you up, brand you

and call you their own

 

There you stand, all day long, eating the big blue sky,

growing bigger and bigger

But when I look again …  you are big no more

 

Ropes can’t reach you and guns can’t harm you

You are truly free to roam

The first and the last of the untamed west

A commodity that can’t be captured or controlled

 

Yes, you are wonderfully made and beautiful to behold

A friend to the hot and weary traveler

And a ready reminder to the rich and prideful rancher

 

That God rules the “higher” range

and tends to the clouds in the big blue sky of Texas

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