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.