I saw a cloud of splendor,
it was floating on a breeze.
I thought of its good fortune,
without a single aim to please.
It was just as it is,
no desire, expectation, or lean,
An elemental compound
without a recollection of me.
I stood in awe of its color,
the blue, the gray, the green,
and as I looked upon it,
my pain within began to scream.
Oh, to be that cloud,
out of every person‘s reach.
Just suspended in forward motion
without the slightest thought of needs.
Then I watched that cloud spill over
from fluff to angry beast,
and in a few short moments
the cloud shed tears as my reprieve.
Perhaps it was looking down
and saw a girl with a cloud all her own.
Then decided to rinse the gray from her,
to strip her down to her gloom-soaked bones.
Maybe the clouds can only
make room for so much gray,
and after that they must unleash
for we both can’t stay that way.
So the cloud gave way to falling,
did the work of its heaviness.
And upon the on-looker below,
a cleansing downpour of tenderness.
I stood with heart wide open,
receiving what was nature’s drenching gift.
And with every drop that rolled off me,
my gray turned from its bitterness.
Fading from the atmosphere,
the cloud drifted to nothingness.
I whispered, “Someday, not just yet,
I’ll join you,
in the place where we don’t exist.”
By: Stacy Johnson, 4-28-19
Singing Over My Bones 