Now days stretch slowly, long
Under autumn sky of rain
Our thoughts are trapped
As bees so diligent
In the hive of waking emotions.
The clouds swim gracefully
Dressed in light gray robes
Their wide long sleeves
Touching the sky and my face
Autumn clouds are priests
Whispering the truth for the world,
Do we really exist?
Will our reflection remain?
Where our shadows move after?
We are children of God,
With lost innocence,
Wandering, expelled from the
Heaven and earth...
Our last hope is Love.
n.nour *
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