If I could see beyond the clouds
what would there be?
As I stand here
(attached by the gravity of my life
to this two feet parcel of earth)
nothing there seems clear.
What would I see through the window beyond?
An endless green sea on which I might float (or walk)?
But neither my eyes nor mind have reach enough,
so I am like a shell
washed up on some endless celestial beach.
One day the sky may clear
and I may see and hear
answers to the mystery that I am living.
I will be beyond the clouds,
inside a limitless blue box.
Sky end to end, side to side.
Until then?
The ink of my thoughts will drop from the clouds like rain
and bloom upon a page.
I’ll watch butterflies light on leaves like orange flames.
and know that it is enough.
paul Bluestein has written poetry for many years, but has just recently begun to submit his work. He is hoping Foxglove Journal will be one of his first steps forward on this new journey. He is a physician (OB-GYN) by profession (retired … or just plain tired), a self-taught musician (guitar and piano) and a dedicated Bridge and Scrabble player (yes, ZAX is a word). He writes poetry because The Muse, from time to time, calls him unexpectedly and keep ringing insistently until he answers, even if he doesn’t want to talk with her just then.
Foxglove Journal 