Musings of the Nebulous
Count the clouds that weave across the sky,
A tapestry of whispers—silent sighs.
Each one a fragment of the celestial sea,
Floating, fading, like dreams set free.
Beneath the azure dome, a lone voyager roams,
Seeking solace among the billowing homes.
Clouds like thoughts adrift in the mind's vast flight,
Shadows of giants in the soft twilight.
"To name the clouds," she dreams aloud,
"To chart their pilgrimage, to make a shroud
Of verses endless like their forms above,
To catch their spirit, to cradle their love."
Sky Symphony