Jet, Cracked Paint, Tea

The clouds take a little blue from the sky beyond, how beautiful the weather makes life seem. The sky is where the soul goes when the mind runs out of destinations. We love the mountains because that's where the earth meets the sky. If you just watch the sky an hour each day, lie back in the grass, you'll never be ill. When it rains your face becomes a holy bowl. Once I was a beggar, no cares, by railroad tracks. They too disappeared into the sky. A small town you could hold in your fist on the prairie. A big city easy to hold in your mind when you're in the sky. The clouds take a little blue from the sky. The sky takes a little blue from your soul. . .