White and grey vapor, the clouds discuss plans
as they drift in the sky and to some eyes paint pictures.
The shadows are ink smears of wisdom and rambling
writ across ground flowers gravel and paper.
Letters with no words and questions with no answer,
the rules that will bend and the suggestions are law.
Wishes and wind whirl in shouts or in whispers.
Sharp bushes shiver and rattle and gossip,
vines show their stems but hide their intentions,
while trees learn and teach that in silence there’s brilliance,
and their branches sway slow, leaves green open drinking
the sun’s beating bright beams, its burns and its kisses.
And the the smell and the heat and the sight and the light
and the air and the touch and the thought are the all
and fullness and absence respond to the awe,
the love and the wonder that uncover, surrounding,
the aching that insists to create or to numb.
The space with no limits and no fixed direction
The portend of time to end soon or never
The beliefs, the guesses,
the convictions, the whatever
the happy and sad
the lost, the had
the girl and the cat
the car and the crash
the no and the maybe
the quiet and loud
the pills and forever
the somewhere
the nowhere
the found
The color the sound
The mystery profound
the fields, the sky, the wall
It is nothing at all.