
Through the clouds,
There is a light,
Sometimes it’s hard to see,
In the dark of night.
But if you search for it,
You shall find,
That light that forever shines.
Through the clouds,
There is a light,
Sometimes it’s hard to see,
In the dark of night.
But if you search for it,
You shall find,
That light that forever shines.
There are moments when reclining by a field of flowers,
Or sitting by a babbling brook,
And soaking up the early summer mist,
That the mind wanders floating with the clouds.
It travels through existence,
Searching for purpose and meaning,
Floating over time,
Viewing strife and pain,
Joy and happiness,
Looking for a reason when the next sunrise comes,
To rise out of bed and, like the sun, become born anew.
As the mind wanders, floating gently with the clouds,
It returns after a while and lingers with the flowers and brook,
Their beauty speaks as they shimmer in the late afternoon sun,
Completely enveloped in the golden hour rays,
That descends like angles from the heavens.
Then the mind transfixed on their beauty begins to understand,
Perhaps the reason to live is guided by beauties hand,
And as the sun creeps further down the horizon, there is a peace that sweeps over the land.
Breaking through the dark silence,
A round of Robins sing in the new day,
In unison, their gentle calls are a sweet harmony,
Chirping and dashing about in the cool morning air,
Nature’s grand choir,
Lifting their voices in a song as old as the mountains,
Singing with all their might,
As if willing the vernal sun over the horizon.
Purple and amber bursts through the fleeing clouds,
A cooling breeze cuts through the humid air,
The trees shake, and flowers bow.
As the clouds blew on,
And the sun began to recede down the horizon,
The displays of color would fill the greatest painters with envy.
Lavender, orange, yellow, and pink,
A show of divine proportion,
Perhaps a revelation,
For those who listen to the whispers of the wind,
And look for the shades of wisdom in the sky.