CLOUD VALLEY
Cloud valley,
a cleft of mist
Where trees
breathe white
In smoke drifting
shadow.
A hidden,
silent place,
Its own winds
and weather.
Where long yesterdays
Drip
and linger,
A cushioned,
cultivated moss.
Above a winding
flight of kites,
Wheeling the way
the sun does.
And the shout of ravens,
Stern as castles.
The heart may watch for hours
The roll of dark and light,
The folds of far off land,
But it is in cloud valley
Where spirit longing loiters,
The shroud of matter,
A weightless dance,
Once more revolved,
Tasted.
—
“And the shout of ravens,
Stern as castles.”
Splendid!
Thanks!