The sky in all its glory expresses a many, in variables and more.
Unable to fathom its multiple demonstration that is seen in galore.
The clouds move in a direction swiftly floating softly like the snowflakes.
Does it give a message, a language that I cant read, the design it makes?
The patterns I see amazing and I wonder why they go sometimes in full speed.
The sky with its whiteness has its reasons and it surely must have its own need
I kept watching the sky while driving through the streets to see if it was a complain.
Or just a travelling flake that got trapped in our skies and now has gone lame
Then sends my grandkid from Toronto that KSA skies gone to degree ‘zero' today
Which explains what my eye did clearly that message during my ride just yesterday…
The art of nature so pwerfully displayed from high above our lands.
Masters our movements our days our plans in this planet, our earthly land.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem