“Son of man, you know nothing!”, said the cloud,
with a loud bang of thunder preceded by
a fulgent flash of galvanizing blue,
flooding the sky with its light like a sea.
I bowed down and said, please enlighten me
but the cloud ran dry before I was through!

    

Was stunned by the silence I must admit,
then I remembered at the mountain’s feet
home of the cloud, the misty palace, stood
girdled by the lushness of those olive trees,
sacred since the ancient tales of godly feuds
and I knew where to I must spread my wings.

   

Atop the mountain one can reach out and
brush away the hanging clouds, streaked with gold
for staring straight into the heaven’s eye,
to submit, “Enlighten me, I have come!”,
hoping, the loss of wax along the way
would suffice for his dreams of a clear day!

     

With the last morsels of fate at my back
I head for my destiny to cherish the sun!

.


 

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