The Cloud

The cloud

To the scientist, something to be calculated
To the farmer, a premonition of life
To the artist, the canvas for the sun to paint on
To the child, the artist painting
To the shivering, a curse
To the perspiring, a blessing
To those under a clear sky, non-existent
To the defiant, something to jump through
To the meteorologist, a money-maker
To the blood-thirsty, a veil to drop bombs through
To the pre-occupied, irrelevant
To the worn, a reminder

In the end, it is the cloud.