I Caught A Cloud

Yesterday, I caught a cloud
while stretching toward the sky.
It briskly whisked me off the ground,
swooping my surprise.

Gleefully, I rode it ‘round,
sailing on the breeze,
careless of my life below,
a dream of downy ease.

Flung among the skybirds,
then swung below a rainbow,
I rushed so high, I brushed the sun,
hung in flows of amber glow.

As evening blushed in fuchsia hues,
my cloud whorled wispy thin,
drifting gently to the ground,
my lowly home again.

I long once more to drift those heights,
but clouds are just a moment’s mist.

The gift is the lifting memory
of places, people, fondly kissed,
and all the clouds I might have missed
if I hadn’t touched the sky.