Cloudscape Poem by Roilynn brown

Clouds streaming like islands,
splattered in an ocean of blue liquid.
I am challenged to keep them stationary with my eyes.

Constantly moving,
they join and fall apart.
Their motion illuminates the rhythm of the skies.

Their shape form treasures that are unreachable.
It's like a hunt for a treasure I am unable to obtain,
as I watch their value melt.

Clouds and treasures dissipate and vanish,
even when you think they are captured and held.

If I let the clouds carry my thoughts,
the weight of my minds problems go round and around.

The clouds seem to invite me to rise above things,
that would harness and drag me down.

As I continue to follow the clouds,
I look to see if there are more mysteries.

Straight, zip-zag, fast and slow,
they pass with an effort as if in symmetry.

Watching them I give names to their dance,
clouds that swirl are waltzes, still clouds are tangos,
clouds that are wispy are a rhumba, what a cotillion.

I was feeling mediocre as the clouds caught my attention,
they gave me a new feeling like I was one in a million.