Cotton Castles of the Sky
A cotton castle hangs in boundless blue,
No fleeting wisp, but cradle vast and soft,
A mother's touch, where weary hearts find rest.
Her downy cloak enfolds the world in sleep,
Forgotten memories on the night wind sigh,
A promise murmured, safe and sound you lie.
But dawn ignites the canvas, ever-shifting,
The cloud, a weaver's shuttle, paints the sky.
Sunlight and shadow dance, a fleeting stage,
Where joy and sorrow play, born of the day.
Like dreams that morph with sunrise, ever-changing,
The cloud reflects life's impermanence, its rage.
Yet from this flux, a hidden truth takes flight,
A seed of hope where darkness held its might.
The tears of heaven gather, fat and full,
A promise in their weight, a fertile pull.
The parched earth drinks, a vibrant dream takes root,
A whispered promise of life's verdant fruit.
A bridge of mist ascends, a ladder high,
Where whispered prayers on celestial breezes lie.
The cloud, a tapestry of every hue,
Woven with hopes both old and born anew.
Within its heart, a fiery serpent coils,
A cleansing spark where veiled darkness boils.
The thunder's voice, a lullaby so deep,
A promise whispered secrets it shall keep.
So gaze upon the heavens, where castles rise,
And see within their beauty, your skies.
You are a part of this grand, ever-changing form,
Cradled by the universe, safe from the storm.
The cloud, a bridge, a promise, a lullaby so deep,
A constant in the flux, where dreams and sorrows sleep.
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