Errant clouds skate the eternal blue,
puffed up balls, expanding, rolling true,
transforming sky with billowing shapes
in reinventing hues of white,
beguiling in their ever-changing sight.
And as they embrace the world below,
dress the blue in shaded subtle flow,
they twirl and swirl like ballerinas on point,
graceful each move and gesture
as if to anoint the observer’s gaze.
And I watch their slight of hand,
ever translating their secret stand,
like whispers unheard they play,
words that cannot betray their surreptitious joy,
evoking their delicate, unharnessed ardor.
How they arrest my afferent soul,
watching their ardent yet gentle displays,
wisdom in their ways yet freedom not withheld,
melding and under spell of charms,
they weave their hopes, dispelling any qualms.
For this is day in glorious fashion,
clouds the dressing of nature’s boundless beauty,
and to sate this realm of sagacious gift
is truly for a soul’s uplifting,
as time implores perfection in its style.
Then when wind does grace the sky,
strewn these puffs to streaks on high,
I marvel at the endless themes,
streams of change to mirror life itself,
as sun does arc and invite an afternoon appeal,
even further changes in grace, so surreal.
Hours I have spent upon my back in gaze
of all that sky commends,
clouds the clothing of the day,
display my thoughts that never end,
and ask eternal question, in silence to be gleaned.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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