I’ve seen them float across the sky
and think of sullen days and nights of the rain they cry.
Yet, so strange is their sadness.
So different to the world below.
It is those tears they spend
That makes the flowers grow.
In a list
Comments
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Very simple and pretty prose, but I got alert succinctly
It makes for a concise title, placing the object you're comparing there, with obvious enough metaphors I can relate to the well-emitted water vapor above. The first line made a general match for me, and got me right aligned in subject... any cloud has that fluffy appearance, especially cumulous. It also may look like it's moving and parting slowly if you watch it for five minutes.
You've brought me briefly to a slightly new thought of turning red-eyed, and why it's the purpose of your poem as you were interested on their unique 'depression'. My favorite part which attached a smile to me is, "It is those tears they spend That makes the flowers grow," leaving me ponder that some weeping is filled for joy. We ourselves may have a fit by that we made an embarrassing mistake etc, yet the water cycle is strict in a constant chain of re-usability. Or, in personification, the plants can act like friends eagerly ready to help, and to be leaned on. My only suggestion would be, I think you mean "make" instead of "makes" grammatically.
Enjoyed your profound view on some nature poems,
Daisy
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