Clouds dangle, as if udders and teats
Memory shudders and lips suckle to sky
Incarnations combine entities; murky repeats
Are we this or that? Princes or beasts?

Billowing mass, vapor in atmosphere
Trickling vigor and tasting vitality
Kisses of fog seem some extent cavalier
Creation whistles in wind exceedingly clear

Mouth motioning desire and yes, need
Cooling air drips resonance of warm sun
Fermentation of time, honey water to mead
At all life begun, but never quite done

Milky rain, an intuitive squeezing of thought
What of lifetimes brings such sustenance?
Say, may that ever after eternally be sought
If one can dream past clouds, ought one not?