My
head rests upon the sky
the
thoughts...
clouds
that drift away:
My
intent was high
what
other should it be?
A
thought of you,
in
the sky
my
clouds blow away
Like
you.
the
sky still stays
like
me.
An
old man listens to me speak
then
acknowledges my pain.
But
then he looks way
and
says this to me:
"You
ARE the sky, and that sky stays.
As
for the clouds; they are BUT clouds,
and
clouds do blow away."
He
has used my own words to describe me.
I
think
and
understand
I
look at the old man and realize
he
is me.
Back
