billows of cloud mass, sliced
into thousands of droplets;

each own a moment, cherished
to belong to the Universe.

yet, held quiet and one can hear
the mountains roar with the same.

as giants lie down among Seqoias,
nestle in the moss and algae;

a crescent moon overwatches all;
with nary a shudder from the cool.

a granny bowl of biscuits and gravy
await the ravenous days ahead.

giggles, energy, and tomorrow await;
only the piano man knows the tune.

he's not telling. he just plays; he knows.
clouds can weigh as much as a 747 airliner;

his laugh can spar with the best;
as all are in his Weight Division.

08/14/2010

Posted on 08/15/2010
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