Sky Speak

If only you had time to linger in repose

lying flat on your back

engrossed by a moving Rorschach

paying rapt attention

to puffs of white cotton rolling by,

an undulating lava lamp

gliding along like sleepy amoeba.

Tinted spears of sunlight

stream through amorphous shapes,

profiles coalesce, a smiling

Teddy Roosevelt, slack-jawed

Churchill and a diabolic Genghis Kahn.

A flotilla of animals comes into view,

a squat bull frog, emu and kangaroo.

Whole continents unfold, Europe ' s

Italian boot; is that Florida or the

probing finger of Providence ?

Iridescent herringbone clouds, a steely

grey penumbra forecasting a fulminating

tumble of potatoes from above.

Bolts of crackling light, voice of a

disgruntled divinity, a cryptic message

as beseeching as a Cherokee brave’s

smoke signals summoning a blood

brother to a menacing war party.

When the sky is beheld in all its

encompassing splendor, you may sense

the presence of those who have gone.

Your one way conversation may leave

you wondering if they get your drift

and look forward to your arrival.

Milt Ehrlich