The Cloud

You can’t see space,
But you can feel it.
In the sky,
When the clouds hang
Distant from each other
In the clear air,

The territory of the mind’s
Vision fills the empty miles
Of sweep between the floating
Worlds of white and whiter.
Fills space,
Fills distance,
Fills all the limitless heavens.

Yesterday,
Hanging over the sea,
Ten miles from me,
A mile above the water,
How tall itself I do not know,
A cloud shone
In the sun,
Covering the sea
With light.

And back,
And back,
And beyond
Again and again
Other clouds hung
In the limitless emptiness.
And I laughed
At the radiant cloud.

Copyright ©2001 Tony Crisp