As the Wind Paints the Sky

                               I love to see it
                        swirl the sky

                    the wind
               which works


          its brushstrokes
       teasing forth

      new forms
       from clouds
         that run like

           paint jars
        across the canvas
     of the blue:

a mouse becomes
  an elephant

      the duckling swims
    into a swan

         or snakes unravel
            into air

      then faces shape up

       or circles widen
         into eyes.

At dawn
  the phoenix might arise
    with wings of fire blinding wide

     as other figures spring and glide
    between the heavens
and my mind.

At any moment
   one may find
     the tiger,

     a sword,

    or heart
   as wind exhibits

endless art.

As the Wind Paints the Sky © Copyright 2021, Robert J. Tiess.

View this poem at

101 words.  Art Among the Clouds theme challenge prompt - link:
Submitted: October 28, 2021