Knowledge is of sorrow, boredom, ecstasy, the weather,
-watching the storm clouds approach like ideas
that never quite arrive or spill their contents.
We look as if to see what is really going on,
we see light on the other side of the window,
mint green through trees,
blood red across clouds,
golden strands skimming fields.
What we know gathers like clouds,
is the fading light in a casting sky.