I watched a cloud top the ridge and pour down the mountain.
It fell in a slow drift and, caught between there and here,
Snagged on trees, bushes and rooftops and hesitated.
Then it floated down in slow tumbles, tangled in cork oaks,
Engulfed rocks and cedars, and tore away from heather.
Soon it quietly paused…
I wondered what it feels like to be swallowed by a cloud.
Is it like a cocoon that keeps sharp objects and ghosts at bay?
Is it a sweet oblivion, a suspension of time as space disappears?
Does it feel like Avalon in a blind embrace?
Or is it like forgiveness in a misty dream?
I wanted to rest in its nebulous peace and hush.
Watching it move further down and anticipating its approach,
I willed it to come to me…
And I waited…
Stilled by an invisible hand,
Pulled by another will,
Edges frayed and dissipating
It settled out of reach.
…And so it goes.