I watch the clouds as they pass by.
They spread a mist across the sky;
and sometimes for an hour or two
they float within a sea of blue
like castles shaped a way up high,
their forms dissolve and seem to die.
Upon my back for an hour or two
I watch them grow to something new.
Veiled in lace they stretch their hands
and seem to wed in other lands.
They look down from eternity
on all that we may hope to be.
Clouds have a strange world in the sky
that outlasts even you and I.
The restless world that they embrace
moves on like us in constant pace.
They toss and turn within a storm.
Each day we live they are reborn.
Janet Marie Bingham
Copyright © Janet Bingham | Year Posted 2018