Singing up on the fly,
the sea touches the cloud.
Dancing on the ground,
it won't slip off the floor,
it won’t drop a drop!
Curiously algorithmic,
runs on the go
leaps or dips, but never
is a gone goose!
Programmed clouds
sing and drop!

Adam touches down
in heaven upon the high.
But his highwater mark
wasn’t solely one way.

He could hear the jingle
upon the high resonates
beneath the ground!

He could see the cloud
forms on the top
and rains down to the ground.

Bow down on the earth
and rise high.
Lo, the golden spiral too,
curves downward
before spiking high up.

no birds.
no wispy feathers high in the sky.
only layered smudges of ashen clouds
with hints of deep cyan
as far as the eye can see,
the only pure light
sourced from the few rays of sunshine
filtering through,
setting the world on fire.

-l.s.

My breath beat shallow at a chest of stone as I looked out
At all of our houses that seemed so small from whence I stood
The sky’s true and radiant blue, I discovered at this altitude
Cloud rings spiraled down, the sun beams reflected off my goggles -
And my arms felt stiff, strapped into wings of enchanted brass
     When all of a sudden a gust swept –
          Me from the tip of my ride with such haste!
          From a cloud boat I dropped and gasped for my life!
          Cyclones of wind paddled my body and blew back my hair…
From a tumble, to falling with such grace,
I soared with a smile over my tiny little city -
And yearned at the horizon in its majesty -
     This moment and its treasures I had stolen for me.

Along the riverside.
Tweeting of birds, joyously they sing.
Rushing of water, crystal clear.
The whistling wind speaks, the waving leaves answer.
The scent of nature. Indescribable.
Up in the sky, the eyes of baby blue.
Snow white clouds above greener lands,
they speak of a language we do not understand.