seeing a cloud floating by
I willed it landed

where I could and did
step upon its fluffy existence
and then floated with it
on an aerial flight
looking out at the landscape
surreal at these heights
 
the cloud seemed to turn
in response to my thought
to enhance my view of a forest,
mountain or lake equally hovering
or soaring it mattered not to the
cloud its only command were my
thoughts neither spoken nor loud

I waited for ideals to generate
momentum, generous contemplations
to plant within me
yet no sound, nor vision
filled my volume
disappointment I did not allow
as the ride on the cloud was
absolute and hallowed 
 
now moving my thoughts into the stillness
floating in the mist of this perfect billowing
substance and ask
why do you serve in this way?
and what is the direction?
 
 

 *graphic art - Gordon Rosenberg

**music clip- - "magic travels"