Thoughts rise as the clouds <br />ever moving to new heights <br />hidden by cobwebs in dark corners of a mind <br />teardrops lay hidden and ready <br />as rain falls from the eyes <br />as the earthquakes so does my soul <br />shakes and trembles, with hurt like black coal <br />O to be forgetful and not think on such things <br />but that cannot be as my heart and eyes sting <br />why can't those clouds up above move me too? <br />and take me to places that are bright and not so <br />cold and blue! <br />I in my illness am lowly, hard and broken <br />my substance seems blown <br />is my mind unaware of who is above the clouds? <br />he who can make right the wrong I've done and felt <br />bent and crumbling a fractured old soul <br />wasting my life just seeing the clouds up above go <br /> <br />where comes my physician, my King? <br />riding on clouds I'm waiting to be set free <br />delivered by blood drops from Christ my King <br />if he finds me worthy to live again <br />I am now just a dying pot of old clay <br /> <br />for Adam and Eve messed up immortality <br />at least until Christ Jesus calls from those clouds <br />all of our life hangs by a thread <br />we have to realize judgement we all should dread <br />and so I in my desperation of hopeful Holy dreams <br />watch the clouds above and wait on my King.<br /><br />Myrtle Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/above-the-clouds-7/
