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…

Anticipation foiled.
Stilled by an invisible hand,
Pulled by another will,
Edges frayed and dissipating
It settled out of reach.

…And so it goes.

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
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23 Responses to Anticipation

  1. alarmingman says:

    Aaahh… an exquisite torment indeed!


  2. john zande says:

    Nice! Ethereal…


  3. Et voila les nuages qui apportent le Mort d’Arthur.
    Vraiment fantastique.
    Tu attends toujours?


    • emmylgant says:

      J’attends toujours avec la mȇme impatience le refuge de mes rȇves. Ca ne change pas.
      Je suis bien… et contente que tu aies aimé cette histoire.


  4. PapaBear says:

    When I saw the title, Em, I was expecting a commentary on an old Carly Simon song by the same titile. You led me down the garden path again…, to another unexpected ending. Do I detect a pattern here? Ha! Nice work.


  5. makagutu says:

    and as it goes… I wait till when i can say something intelligent


  6. arjaybe says:

    Inside a cloud is fog, another kind of shelter.



  7. makagutu says:

    a girl can dream


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