Pilgrim Clouds

Beverley, Mon 23^rd July 2018

Clouds travel the sky

Like floating pilgrims,

Not pushy or driven

Or having something to prove.

They just move, effortlessly,

Serenely free

And full of grace.

The shapes they make can be

Whatever they want to be:

Sharp moments of majesty

Or muddles of mist,

They never insist

On being any one thing.

They dance and then they sing

And then they scatter

And it doesn’t matter.

Their’s is the whole wealth of the sky

An endless playground

To discover

One day after the other,

After the other, after the other,

After the other, after the other….