there is an exquisite sense of
awe
in seeing
c l o u d s
shift
and
drift
c o a l e s c e
((with the orbiting of our planet, a sphere, an haven (of sorts) for life in a vast, barren universe))
on a canvas of halcyon blue
sky
there is a sense of serenity
stealing over your
thoughts
as you
watch (a spectator)
the restless
puffs of -----
// fresh white cotton and shades of pink like oddly colored spun-sugar, ominous shades of grey threatening to tear the skies asunder, scowling, satin white the fur of a rabbit //
deceptively soft
(but if you reached (extending a hand skyward) into to the sky (an endless expanse) and were able to touch, your fingers would pass through an ephemeral apparition, the sensation leaving ice droplets on your skin, ghostly cold---)
ah, reality
it was but a / c h i l d i s h /
(dream/fantasy/wish)
to / b e l i e v e /
(imagine, hope, a wish upon a shooting star passing by)
to reach out to the
clouds
and feel the softness of silk, cotton, velvet
((but really, how would you reach the sky, miles and miles away? defying gravity---a child's dream, to don wings of melted wax and feathers of soaring birds. mathematically impossible, since humans are far too heavy to take to the skies, a naive hope to leap and soar--- no, like Icarus, you'd only fly too close to the sun and
F
A
L
L
(plunging through the very air (not just that, the atmosphere) as gravity's acceleration---9.81 meters per second squared--
pulling your mass
down,
down,
down
and Daedalus can only watch in horror as you plummet, descending into the depths of the ocean with a splash, never to fly again)
YOU ARE READING
a litany of ruminations
Poesía{poetry collection} s c a t t e r e d dreams and drifting thoughts, oh, not everything is what it seems... (not necessarily from my own thoughts)
