Atmosphere

A late night flyer just has taken off.
I hear its turbos talk to the clouds.
They rumble, they grumble.
They suck in the currents and blow them out hot.

Jet planes are fearsome machines.
One, tonight,  flies the polar route.

We recognize that flying tin cans have a limited life expectancy.
Long after they are scrapped, the clouds they flew through remain.
Does this not stand as a metaphor for the presence of God
in our flighty existence; God the sky, we the aeroplanes?

Regarding atmosphere (in general)
to quote William the Shaker of Spears:
"The quality of mercy is not strained,
it droppeth from heaven like the gentle rain."

Oh let it rain, dear God .
There's a drought down in Africa..