Poem by Dylan Thomas

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Shall gods be said to thump the clouds
When clouds are cursed by thunder,
Be said to weep when weather howls?
Shall rainbows be their tunics' colour?

When it is rain where are the gods?
Shall it be said they sprinkle water
From garden cans, or free the floods?

Shall it be said that, venuswise,
An old god's dugs are pressed and pricked,
The wet night scolds me like a nurse?

It shall be said that gods are stone.
Shall a dropped stone drum on the ground,
Flung gravel chime? Let the stones speak
With tongues that talk all tongues.

1. I, in My Intricate Image
2. The Conversation of Prayer
3. My Hero Bares His Nerves
4. Hold Hard, These Ancient Minutes in the Cuckoo’s Month
5. Unluckily for a Death

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