Drifting Hangings
They don’t just hang in the sky;
They watch and see,
Understanding that sometimes our lives can be a turbulent sea.
They bear our weights and pains.
They emerge from the cloak of night at dawn,
Happy clouds embraced by the morn.
They race to find their place in the expanse,
Belonging to both the flight and the flightless,
A place where dreams and visions can soar.
They are the artistry of the Unseen,
Woven and spun by benevolent hands.
They are wrung to pour upon hostile sands,
The lands we journey through until the soul transcends to the beyond.
The clouds spill a thousand secrets,
Revealing the made and the caged.
They see the darkness that hides yet walks in daylight,
Seeming to exist in oblivion as they watch during twilight.
August 6, 2026.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
