She is the sun, veiled behind darkened clouds,
Her rays of strength and warmth obscured,
Enshrouded by sorrow’s lingering veil.
Each fleeting beam that dares escape
Glows golden, rare, but fades too swift,
Leaving no tender mark on hearts too cold to care.

The heavens swell with clouds amassed,
Their weight forgets the sun’s true brilliance.
Her radiant light, a treasure dimmed,
Is buried 'neath their fleeting gray—
Lost in the haze of fleeting love,
Gone with the winds that do not stay.

Yet steadfast burns her radiance bright,
Her warmth unyielding, ready to bless
Those in need of her undying glow.
The moon, pale and frail, thrives only
By the gift of her enduring fire,
And the sky, stretched wide and cold,
Is pale without her light to guide.

Oh, poor sun, sovereign of the skies,
Her streams of light are freely given,
But no hand returns their gentle touch.
She is the heart the heavens crave,
Yet blind they are to why they shine.
Unseen, unloved, her glory lingers,
Forever lighting paths for those
Too blind to seek her face.

i never believed i could fly...
yet, the other day,
i found myself 30,000 ft in the air -
yet again -
having a hard time believing
the captain’s reassuring words.

i was stopped thrice by security;
there was so much metal on me,
you could taste it in the air around me.
i could swear the metal detector had
picked up on my insecurity -
as it swiftly brushed against a drop of
sweat at my temple.
the ‘beeps’ might as well’ve been
swear words,
censored.

having already had two hits of the ‘good stuff’
before leaving for the port,
to say i was paranoid would be an understatement.  
‘what if the machine picks up
traces of substance off my sweat?!!’
yep - i did think so.
‘twas bad.

already late for boarding,
i managed to find myself at the gate,
and into the aircraft,
at the indifferent pace of the final announcement.
the air hostess peddled a magazine my way:
i accepted it -  
read it;
then closed it;
it had no substance.

i could feel the turbulence getting louder;
in my head, that is;
there was a pressure difference,
that didn’t feel any different:
‘twas just something that had to be dealt with;
so i split the difference -
i held my breath,
and it let loose - my dread.

the branded seats featured a slogan
from a recent ad campaign by the airline
celebrating its 18th anniversary -
‘how time flies’, it read;
‘clever…’, i thought -
then turned a sour eye to the window,  
having not written it myself.

i saw the setting sun, past the surging clouds -
flares galloping across their shifting terrain
like little kids on a merry-go-round
chasing each other -
too young to realize
it was never meant to be a race.  
i couldn’t help but chuckle
at that radiant sincerity.

for all intents and purposes,
‘twas was a golden hour;
fifty five minutes,
to be precise.

Even behind the clouds and the rain
There is a rainbow, and I won't complain
My faith will stay, my faith will remain
When I call on Jesus' name
When you look beyond the seas of gray
You'll see the light of a brand-new day
The sun breaks through to show the way
So, through it all, I'm gonna say
Even behind the clouds and the rain
There is a rainbow, and I won't complain
Now I'm looking back, and I see it all so plain
What I thought was loss was really gain
Sometimes life is more than I can take
And I'm sure another step and I'll break
I believe you know best, but for Heaven's sake
I'm a little concerned when my life's at stake
I trust you though and I choose to abide
I run to your open arms and curl up inside
Your love is deep, and your arms are wide
And in your merciful heart I will reside
Because there, behind the clouds and rain
Lies a rainbow, so I won't complain

What if I were to conjure a storm
And be met with a fleeting rain?
What if I let a small sob escape
And spilt forth a rogue hurricane?
What if I precipitated a thunder
And heard word of a sweet refrain?
What if Cumuli resolved with Nimbus
To be lighter once again?

Are there aliens

inside the clouds? Who is there --


rummaging about?

Slow cloud formations

drift darkly within themselves --


humming a little.

We are clouds
individual
and collective by nature
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds

We cannot live in
photos or paintings
inspiring but hanging
dormant like billboards
and traffic signs

Dark clouds awaken
when angry
fire and fury
torrents of rain
hail damaging

Then Zephyr comes
to appease their anger
    ~god’s of the sky~
peace treaties pending

She often drifts in like
an angel
ahead of a storm front
thunder and lightning her silhouette
bringing in less
threatening clouds to
comfort us when storms
leave us angry cold and wet

At times even darker
clouds hang ominously
and high winds are surely threatening war
then out the blue
allies flank our enemy
blowing away
the fiery vaporous Thor

We float into wintertime
into its storyline
Drifting in and out of space
and time through seasons
of wind hail rain or shine
(essence of
our connected
and interconnected minds)

Billowing Cumulonimbus
Dark Nimbostratus
Thin Sirius basking in sunshine
Shapeless grey clouds of snow
Cold drizzle reigns

Funnel clouds
cyclone
monsoon
hurricane
typhoon
bursting through
atmospheric membranes

We can be moody
boasting large volumes
but revealing far-less mass

Passively aggressive
boasting less volume
but revealing a lot of mass

We are clouds
changeless-ever-changing
drifting into our eyes
and across our minds.

The soft murmurs
of deep repose
whisper to me,
a breeze across my shallow heart,

As I slip into blurred lines
between life and eternal rest.
The unruly yet calming
resonance blesses my weary eyes
with a tender kiss.

Above, clouds continue
to grace the sky,
and even then,
I can't seem to muster up
whatever resides within;

This tide of once pure emotion,
I now must learn to resist.