Pictures in the Clouds

The stars never looked quite so brilliant

as they do this night,

as we run through the field of fireflies.

The grass tickling our soles

while the crickets sing,

and I know this is what I've been waiting for

all these years.

 

The sky was never so blue

as it is here with you.

Where the wildflowers bloom

and we're both whole again.

Falling down onto our backs

and painting pictures in the clouds

 

The sun never warmed me

The way that feeling you again does.

Your hand is no longer just a memory,

and the blue of your eyes

is brighter than any photograph I have.

 

This is paradise, I know it,

because you're here,

and I'm home at long last.