.
.
.
...and i waited listening for something
the sound of easy movement across broken clouds
broken like my eyes my voice
cracked shifting fading
.
and it always seemed so gentle up here
even in the raging storms
.
removed myself from the gravity of tomorrow
shedding feathers trying to hide above an altostratus roof
the initial silence is mesmerizing
as if my voice will shatter existance
.
and i wonder if my tears
will ever be distinguished from the rain
.
what are a few more drops of sorrow
slipped from eyes that are too nearsighted to give in
hanging onto that one dried flower
as if the wind could breathe life into it
void of color and perfume
it could fall like ash into oblivion
.
it would take nothing to lean and fall
embrace open air and let the chilling clouds take me
.
yet here i sit gazing dazed across mocking clouds
waiting for some unknown hand
hoping against hope for something beautiful
an embrace to put the stars in my eyes
a whisper of forever to restore my voice
.
the shapes of clouds may shift and
yet the shape of my soul does not
.
.
.

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