Clouds

I went to the Council of the People of the Sky,
and asked, "Have I permission to rest here and scry?"

"What seek you, human? What have you in mind?
We are what we are -- we are no other kind.
We are the sojourners of the Earthmother's wings;
we wander, and ponder, we dance and we sing.
We have no intent. We but do as She wills --
to race, or to rain, or to be very still.

"I honor your Vision and your Cloud-sculpting Art,
and I ask you to echo what you see in my heart.
Reveal my reflection, that more clearly I'll see,
what Truth is so woven in the Tapestry of Me."

"Then, quiet yourself, your mind, and your fear,
and read what we draw from the Spirit's own Sphere."

At first, I was frightened, and then some confused
(which runs about normal in the patterns I use).
So I worked on my stillness and finding true ground,
and let my Self touch to the depths I had found.
It looked like a wrench(?)-- a tool of some kind --
used to adjust, to tune or refine,
perhaps -- and for me -- a need for calibration,
to heal and guide me to a sacred vibration.
And the tool was inside me, a way to attune
to the Changes that nibbled at the edge of my cocoon.

"The answer, deep human, is already at hand,
has always been waiting for you to understand.
Take care on your Journey; feel free to come scry,
keep your feet on the ground, and your Vision in the Sky."

"Thank you, Sky-people, for all you have shown,
and for depths you have reached that I have yet to own."

And the Council disbanded, to wander and play,
leaving me to discover my own Sacred Way.

*************

The clouds seem so very close
and yet not there at all
if I should wish it so;
murmurs of gray
pastel shades of whispers and sighs
pussy-willow footprints
across the skies...
so close at hand,
yet only a reflection
of my thoughts.

Journey to the Sky-People