The day rises in the clouds, not in the sun
In the twisting winding blend of puffy definition.
Moving silently robed across the sky
The billows puff and wend their way in slow moving pattern.
Blowing, moving to a return, a home, a place.
Connecting the canopy space which rains down.
The blessing of subtle movement, of beauty
Graceful beyond knowing painted dreams in the air.
Going lazily on their way aloft always above.