Okay, don't go into shock.  Two posts in the same week!  Wow.  I was sitting in a restaurant with my trusty tablet with me, and got into a weird mood, and started writing.  I do that on occasion, and sometimes I even get something from it that's worth keeping.  You'll have to decide that one for yourselves, I guess.  Anyway, here they are.

Who Chose?

Who chose the colors of the sky

  or the trees and rocks

Who sat there and thought

  green would look good

   against the blue

Maybe white for the clouds

That had to be tough

  the water was already blue

Clouds are water

  but they're white

   or dark grey

Where did the blue go

  when the water stopped

   being a lake?

c. 2012 C. Thames

I was looking at a small lake, then at the clouds, then back at the lake, and that one hit me.  I was following up on the Who idea for the next one.

Who Asks?

Who asks the water
  to stop being a river
and start being a cloud
Do the drops get together
  and decide
We're out of here!
Or, do the ones in the sky
  invite the rest
Come on up for a party
Hang for a while
  go home later

It's a cool deal
  hanging in a cloud
Circle the world
  then rain on a flower
Getting flushed can't be fun
 but it's gone
 back home.

c. 2012 C. Thames

I don't know that I like the second one that much.  It feels like it kind of falls apart in the last stanza.  I've been thinking about cycles lately, and both of these kind of represent that, in their own way.  Different ideas, different ways of looking at things.  All that.  Maybe that's the point of poetry?  Present a new way of looking at things?  I don't know.  It is kind of fun, though.