The Clouds

I was standing outside looking into the heavens
Clouds lazily drifting by far above against a crystal blue sky
My imagination soared at what the shapes might be
There was a group of angles surely from the wings that I saw

But then again, maybe it was a group of sting ray
Migrating across the sky this time each year
My thought shifted, the whales moving in herds
Diving and splashing through the heavens above

No, it couldn’t be whales. There were white wings
And I’m sure I heard the sounds of doves coming from above
Sounds from a group of feathered clouds ahead of the rest
My imagination kept re-combing the whites and the blues

The dull flames and smoke of a NASA car race
But so quietly were the cars up on the roof of the world
I figured it out. They were just high clouds
With many different shapes and hues

Shapes created by an aesthetic imagination
Though only a moment later, I was soaring high
Amongst the angles and rays of sunlight
Through the clouds and off into the distant blue.

©2009 Carl Watts
Page created 1/21/09
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