Clouds

I raise my hand,

Spread my fingers,

Eager to snatch the clouds.

In all the world,

My favourite specter.

The white and the grey,

The silver lined,

And the thundering blacks,

I love them all.

The contours, shapes,

Sculpted smoothness,

Built on air,

Nothing more.

And I wish,

How I wish!

That we could see,

We are all like them!

The black, the white,

The differences,

All the conflicts,

Everything to water, silences!