Phoenix Cloud

Cotton candy heaven

blown by wind,

formed into a bird of prey

gracefully swooping down…

Sunset Moon upon its beak,

as though towards the Earth

shall drop

unless it catches it.

Swiftly,

gently,

keep it up the sky,

so when weary

landbound soul

search heavenward

for reason,

he’ll find a jewel there:

Mystic Moon

so like a Star!

Changing cloud.

Phoenix gone.

Nothing left

but shapeless white.

Soon it will be an angel

or a tree,

or a hippopotamus!

Infinite potential

to be anything

by wind’s decree!

Such is life.

Before you even realize it

the Wind

has transformed you

into

something

else…