Soulcloud

Clouds, i make with gestures every one.

Action the same, clouds so different each one.

I paint the empty air on the backdrop of a distant sky.

A little brush in my hand, red fire my only dye.

I paint an absent time of a reclusive blank slate.

A moment to die for, even in a deadly secret.

Words tumble from me in a smoky poem.

Wait wind! I have yet to give it a name.

Let some reach their journey’s tortuously quick end.

Be still, for a while, or around my clouds bend.

In with the toxic fumes so sharp, 

Stinging eyes, let no tear depart.

The morning comes but my nights not done!

Words and paint for you. Pain left for me to learn.

Do not chirp and whistle away this dawn too.

Clear sky, i know. You need my clouds to be blue.

Let me light another brush, another pen.

Lost in my clouds, oh how you wait for the rain!