Clouds

When I was a child, I played with and among the clouds. I used their plumes as finger-paints and they told me stories. They allowed me to crawl towards them, and they crept towards me. Both had curious intent, and they had loved me. I grew Impatient, Eager, Foolish, Damned, Disgusting, Wanting Wanting WANTING MORE AND More and more Until I looked to those clouds once more; And I saw them look back with disgrace as they greyed and abhorred. When I was a man, I searched for guidance from and amongst the clouds. I used their beauty as motivation and they fueled my passions. With every step I took in their direction, they stepped back silently. Both were reflections, one the dream and one the desire. I waited calmly. The music came. Violins drew on. The piano unlocked the door. Harps strung me through. Stop. Stop! STOP! The instruments vanished Before I could turn back to the clouds And they nodded, understood, as the heavens clashed.