To science clouds may just be
But to me they are graphic stories
Being played infront of my eyes.
It can carry all shades of blue
With grace and unearthly naturalness,
To the fiery passionate hug to the night
By red and orange embers
To the black moonlit sky.
It carries the last breath of now ghosts,
And the inaudible chirps of new life.
A home to the wind that flutters my hair,
And stores my dreamy sigh.