While on a 1993 flight from Houston to my hometown of Tulsa to visit relatives, I found myself in a meditative place, lost in wonder at the clouds close enough to touch. . . I was looking out the window and this is what I saw:
Surfing on the calm balm of white whipped cream reminds me of years ago and snow ice cream.
Clouds in a slow dance; marshmallows carried by squadrons of ants. Elephants in the sky just hang there so high.
Cottonballs in case we fall. The rest ignore it — one and all!
Now we’re on a prairie; wisps of white wheat’s all I see.
Air skating in Anatctica, enveloped in Cloudgalactica.
Canyons, shadows from more clouds above; sunlit sparkles, and blue for love.
Wrapped in beauty — no view for a goal.
Copyright by Hildra Tague. Contact the author for permission to use in print or online.