Cloud of Destiny

I roll through your country like a cloud,
untethered and effervescent,
leaving craters with each raindrop
and blotting out the sun.

My roots dangle in the breeze of my own intellect
that has no color to paint.
Swat at my omnipotence of the sky
bearing down on your dreams.

My rain floods your nation like the Midas touch--
how many bodies are crushed by this rolling wheel?

Armed forces and prestigious might crumble,
leaving blood in my wake,
gelling in the afternoon sun.

I am the horrid course of nature,
of history,
that does not care.

I have a taste for the air in your lungs
and the rhythm of your music.

Tongues tied and left in the kitchen cupboard
only for the intimate exchange of broken bread
companion to the spirit in the floodwaters--
you will live to see the fabric of your life torn and mangled
softly bleating for mercy
in the sterile halls built on riverbed mud.

But I am the cloud
the white bearer of destiny
--ready to swallow your skeletons whole.