Up near where the heavens join the sky,
In lofted oceans as white silhouettes drift on by,
Some say the clouds, but I say they are spirits,
Playing in the air as long as heaven permits.
The cream of the skies at the top of the earth,
Splashing in the sun when the spirit gave birth,
I wonder what they feel like against my skin,
How far the ends reach out and then begin,
Where the blues and the white touch and mingle,
If they make my lazy senses rise and tingle,
If the texture gets inside my heart and sings,
If the soothing lasts for each day it brings,
Can I rise up and chase the clouds around?
Can I jump into the whiteness or go aground?
Can I touch the softness or will it elude me?
Will it tease my spirit and then let me be?
Will I drop back to the earth ill equipped?
With my sadness taken over as I lose my grip?
As I wonder here,
Standing on the highest mount,
I want to fly up into the clouds
And run and jump and sing and play,
And lie in their softness,
And dream my pains away.