Layer upon layer of clouds like waves,
A crescent moon sails pale on the blue,
Rain is coming to fill the fields,
My heart trembles to see it.
Weather, we’re weather,
A blowing change,
Matched only by the heavens,
A mirror to my soul;
Arising spontaneously, falling to nothing.
Whose fault the mind born to marvel at itself?


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. mairmusic
    May 17, 2012 @ 03:37:38

    You turn on a dime in the middle of this– like a reflection in the mirror in your words.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

(C) Copyright Mark B Williams 2014 Registered & Protected
%d bloggers like this: