Wandering Nomads Poem by Vinaya Joseph

In skies they dance, soft and free,
Cloaked in white, a tapestry.
Wandering nomads, drifting high,
Painting stories in the sky.

Whispers of rain, secrets they hold,
Mysteries in silver and gold.
With every breeze, they shape and form,
A silent symphony, a weathered storm.

From dawn's first light to dusk's embrace,
They journey on with gentle grace.
Clouds, the dreamers of the sky,
Forever wandering, forever high.