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Rated: E · Poetry · Spiritual · #2252862
A poem of transformation
Growth occurs in the silent hours,
when my mind pauses
to reflect
on my words
and my actions.

My eyes focus on a white clouds,
as it moves across the sky.

I whatch it change,
as sections are torn away
from the main mass
by the wind
in the upper atmosphere.

I watch the cloud
become whips of gossamer
against the blue sky.

That cloud is my illusions,
ripped apart
by the days events,
and leaving behind thistledown
to be dispersed
by the reality of my actions.

Poet's Note:

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2252862-Meditation-on-a-Cloud