Below Billowing Clouds

by LisaMay

When I wander, lonely in a crowd,
my world is not like theirs –
such rushing whirl, with grumpy glares,
and noises far too loud.

I seek the peace of a tranquil place,
to stroll with simple pleasure.
Then, to add mystery to my leisure,
to lie in a grassy field and raise my eyes to space.

Cerulean serenity: the cathedral dome of blue
containing sun and moon –
that wide expanse nourishes my soul
and makes my fragments whole,
when all becomes in tune.
My mind can float with clouds above – renew.

Clouds are here and then they’re gone,
in wisps of dreamy thoughts
or thunderous juggernauts.
The sky’s a canvas to be painted on.

My imagination plays its game
to bring clouds life with shifting shapes.
I can change a dragon to a dove
through the taming eyes of love;
but what once was sure, soon evaporates,
as nothing stays the same.

For what is truth, and where goes youth?
Clouds have seen it all.
They come, they go – some fast, some slow,
while we, below, stand tall or fall.
Affairs of the heart can drift apart;
marshmallows melt away.
Silver-lined can be undermined –
but there’s always another day.

Below these billowing clouds I sprawl.
When clouds depart, the view’s revealed;
the sun shines on my grassy field.
My turbulent thoughts are gently healed –
problems once big, now small.

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Author's Note:
The first line in my poem is an intentional reference to William Wordsworth's 1807 lyric poem, 'I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud'.

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A different perspective

Below Billowing Clouds

by LisaMay

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