Buried in Time

The clouds are an opalescent canvas,

a waiting boquet for our tired bodies.

One million colors all are there,

and the beings that

inhabit the sky are singing.

Our fears and failures,

all will be swept away

and buried in time.

The clouds all bend and

point us in a direction.

Watch how the wet grass

sways in the wind,

it calls! It calls for you.

The End

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