Above the Clouds
I soar above the clouds,
witness the birth
of an horizon—virginal,
milk-white, shining,
where even shadow
moves turtle slow,
anticipates the moment
when it is embraced,
condensed and lifted
into the light.
That I could leap unafraid
into that quilt of cloud,
test the wings that beat
within this cage
of skin and bone,
spread them, joyously,
and surrender,
immersed in the song
of morning—reborn,
complete and eternal.
Debbie Ouellet