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.
This entry was posted in Life and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

23 Responses to Anticipation

  1. makagutu says:

    a girl can dream


  2. arjaybe says:

    Inside a cloud is fog, another kind of shelter.



  3. makagutu says:

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


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


  6. john zande says:

    Nice! Ethereal…


  7. alarmingman says:

    Aaahh… an exquisite torment indeed!


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