Passing Clouds

No picture nor painting
can compare
no object on earth can imitate
the details, the curves
the shadows, the lights
no dream, nor memory
will be the same
the sight of looking out your window
and seeing these obscurities in the sky
the way they rove, the way they sit
no words can describe
the full beauty of the clouds
the way there shaped, the way they float
the way they wisp and wind about
never the same
yet never differ
they rain, they snow,
there always there
whether we are or not
the shadows they create
the trails of dreams they leave behind
the way there is no way
to fully explain
the dreams they make,
the dreams they are
there is no way,
to understand, to compare, to imitate
there is now way
but to just look out the window
and look up at the clouds.