Cloudy Day
Fluffs of cottons drift lazily by
under the vast canvas of the sky,
over the hills from miles up high.
Shafts of sunlight shyly break thru
tiny holes in the celestial window
to greet the wide, open meadow.
Seeks the flower the droning bee
on this chilly and beautiful day
as among the blooms he will be.
The clouds, the earth and the sky,
so unlike yet, in perfect symmetry,
but why can’t the human family?
Someday when the world is at peace
I will knock on your door, uninvited,
to bid hello, drink your wine and say
“My friend, we’re home at last.”
Copyright © Wilfredo Derequito | Year Posted 2007
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