for a bold dreamer
When I find you again, it will be
in the high country you have wandered
so long that clouds recognize you,
and bunch together to greet you.
They are in awe of your journeys
over the hard rugged surface,
whereas they glide through open space
on winged air-currents, under the dome
of Heaven. They consider you Heaven’s
rare gift. Have I been blind to what
clouds know out of their pure instinct?
And what of me? I must look deep
into and eyes, and fall into the meshes
of your soul. I have so much to learn
when I find you again…
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