me thinks there is much more to clouds

than tufts of suspended cotton balls

i find it difficult to focus on what is in front of me

when overhead is this marvelous, mysterious canopy

shapes that trick me into constantly changing my mind as to what i see

the currents of air high above move and reshape formations

right before my eyes

i am watching and invisible artist brush the shadows and filtering light

mesmerized i am absorbed into the canvas that is constantly changing

before i can assuredly identify a figure it evolves into something new altogether

the shards and splinters of light pierce through openings and then are consumed

the movable palette of myriad colors is like looking through a kaleidoscope

that is constantly changing, but i can’t see the hand turning the chamber

but i know He’s there

to clouds