Cloud fingers
Mysteriously creep
Over rough terrain–
Now lingering,
Now moving,
Sinking in crevasses,
Rising up ridges,
Now hanging low.
Mystery–
Dark, vaporous beauty.
So what is your life?
Vapor passes,
Rising up
On the wings of the wind–
Very breath of God;
And then it parts
Revealing
Clear shining after rain,
As seen from above–
Brightest whiteness
Teri Ong May2014
