A passing cloud
had its cathartic moment.
It spat out its fury
cried out its pain
or melted in heated passion…
I couldn’t tell.
I only knew that
all that it had released
was all that it had absorbed.
I ran out then…
Looked up at the vast expanse
of dark feeling
lowered and wanting to touch…
to reach out.
I let it soak me.
And so it happened…
In its cathartic moment
I had mine.
Wit. Wisdom. Wonder... 
I love how you have associated the clouds with catharsis. From my understanding catharsis is when the patient unburdens his problems to the therapist. And this fits brilliantly with the poem. Smartly written and very novel. 🙂
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Thank you! I’m glad you appreciate it!😊
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