Tranquil Beauty

I wrote this poem while on a plane ride and was just mesmerized by the scene unfolding before me.

Tranquil Beauty

High above in the troposphere,
a blanket of clouds form a sea,
thin, wispy and free
floating like cream on your coffee.

Imagine walking through cloudy fog
with no pressure, no resistance,
knee deep and feeling nothing
but the white that you see.

Canoeing through waves of white,
textured clouds, feeling motion
without force, moving, but standing
still in an ocean where there’s no reflection,
but the ones in your mind.

Listen to the wispy clouds crashing
weightlessly against the imaginary shore.
Waves so gentle like foams of cream,
a truly silent beauty.

As the sun starts to set
above the sea of clouds,
gradients of pink and orange
melt into the baby blue sky.
A sunset where
no bird’s eye has really seen.

As we fly lower and lower
into the field of clouds,
a beautiful meadow of white,
sparkles of precipitation
appear before my very eyes,
leaving behind
trails of shooting stars,
in the twilight sky,
a stream of wishes by my window side.
I close my eyes and dream.

The scene outside my window

The scene outside my window

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