The Clouds Come Calling

The Clouds Come Calling

Starry skies

Look down on her

While she looks down

Upon lights below

Not knowing

She is observed

Feeling alone

Seeking to be away

From prying eyes

The night is cold and clear

It stings her flesh

As the tears

Track down her face

Marking rivers of pain

She seeks the reason

For her desolation

Seeks to understand

Yet fears the answers

Wishes she could go

Without knowing

Knowledge though

Is power

Yet power

Is beyond her

She is lost

Trying to find herself

She seeks

What she does not wish to find

Her answers

Raise more questions

The questions

Give more pain

The stars are hard and sharp

Like tears

Upon the velvet


Of the night

Their harsh beauty

Takes her breath away

They mock her anguish

And while appearing

To be above it all

They are immersed in it


Forever out of reach

Of she who can only dream

Where is the lady moon?

Does she also seek to hide?

The night is black without her

Somehow less forgiving

The stars take advantage

Wield power

Not usually theirs

But then

The rolling mists of night

Are gently passing


Obscuring her

From the piercing scrutiny

From the unsympathetic

Gloating, glances

It wraps the stars

In cotton wool

Smothers the sounds

Of their laughter

Eases the bite

Of the punishing wind

And she feels joy

Blinded by tears

Her tension

Seeps away

And she sleeps

Without dreams

As softly

In the quiet

The clouds come calling

Written in response to The Reverie’s “Quiet Journey” prompt

© Ann Bagnall and, 2014.

4 thoughts on “The Clouds Come Calling

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