The clouds are milky white,
so I imagine them as mother's milk.
In turn the surrounding skies become a vast, transparent bosom,
boundless breasts suspended in the heavens.
The spirit of maternity fills the air.
There's natural femininity about a summery day.
Oh, feel the presence of the great Sky Mother.
Next, the surface of the Earth becomes as the face of a baby.
The lakes serve as the eyes of this Earth Child,
looking up hungrily at the warm whiteness on display above.
Finally, the skies release the clouds:
Raindrops fall as though drawn down
by the insistent suckling done by the leaves of the trees
and blades of grass - the lips of the Earth Child.
After the shower is over, the sun comes out beaming,
as though it were the heart of a new mother,
radiantly happy about successfully nursing her infant for the first time.
