A little bit of free form poetry for ya'll.
The clouds float suspended in midair
Like jellyfish riding the ocean’s currents.
All of them individual
Each one is a memory ,
Or an idea,
Or an aspiration
Just waiting to become real.
They provided fuel for the imagination
We watch them pass over head
Becoming rabbits, cars, anything.
Flowing to a similar destination.
Melding, breaking apart
Fraying as if they are the
Tattered threads of a blanket.
They pass over the horizon
Behind the blue mountains and the sun,
Shining with a brilliant golden hue.
The richness of their journey
Not valued until this fleeting moment of glory.
Where all of the long day comes to a close
And the memories, ideas, and aspirations
All become real, within our hearts, and within our minds.