Clouds
the enso
the poem
The clouds? They have
been everywhere. Listen
to those stories as they
interweave, bend,
and mix. They can
tell you where to go.
Hear them whisper
in wisps, follow
their rumblings before
lightning strikes.
No, this is not mere
fluff, some cushy
puff to soften
your day. This
is the chronicle
of your time, how
the hours churn
and evaporate, like rain,
into the sky, sliding
from one end to the next.
This is the miracle you
have been waiting for.