Cloud Caught
Delicious winds blew questions
out of my contemplating hands.
I saw pieces, cloud caught,
sink inside soft, puffy mounds.
Without a why, I cried on
hard but receptive land.
What I sensed my faith knew,
I would never understand.
When feeling partly cloudy
my attitude loses melody.
Opaqueness gathers aerosol
particles of confusion.
Moods must self-forage while
ponderings wander to confer
with logic's billowing haze.
This is ever the system when
intuition shush-whispers truth.
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