Sometimes the Clouds and Sometimes the Angels (prose poem and picture)

at moments though it was generally overcast, the light of the sun so determinately arrived that it felt like an angel or group of angels giving a sign and blessing. I had a spinning ring silver w/several saints and divine figures and I touched it. I remembered other moments similar such as when a praying mantis out of nowhere flew across and landed beside me, watching me. it was the wings of the creature that made it appear like a fairy or angel or whatever the case, something more metaphysical than of this world. and then as life goes in cities and in rural and pastoral settings w/many blessings, the clouds resumed and even some rain and anxious strange wind had their turn and show of ruefulness and moving melancholy. but one had to take all moods of the capricious earth and learn from them by observing and remembering. like a soul that would scry the sky or an old-time sagacious psychic who had gifts of the spirit. so, step and step and step again, by the field and under late autumnal tree canopy beige and yellow and brown then…yes step again, to become a nature poet.