Thoughts are like clouds
in so many ways
from the light hearted white ones
to the darkened soul greys
Sometimes in focus
easily discerned
others mis-shapen
hopelessly blurred
When winds are blowing
they churn round and round
fragments scattered
few pieces found
At times they're dark
and rather low
heavily drifting
wind and rain blow
At moments of calm
one can look at the scene
when things coalesce
waking out of a dream
My thoughts are drifting
like clouds over time
from thunderhead dark
to the silvery cloud nine