Some days I find myself chasing the skies, looking for stars that are hidden in the vast blue. Some days I am lost in the clouds, trapped by cotton visuals. Some days I hide behind Saturn with a kaleidoscope of halos around my body. Some days I want to be lost on Pluto, unseen, unheard.
Sitting on cloud nine looking down and cloud eight hoping I can go back there but knowing I do not belong.
Sitting on cloud nine looking up at cloud ten knowing that if I ascend I will lose myself.
Dancing on cloud nine hopping my footsteps will wake up the sleeping faithful;
Rolling around on cloud nine sending puffs of cotton across the sky with a message of living for the moment.
Sleeping on cloud nine dreaming of clouds one through sever, praying for clouds nine through fifteen wanting them to combine so all dreams become one.
One day, when a rainstorm is about to burst out of the silver gray sky. I will walk down to the beach, step into the ocean and swim out, the tropical rain forest disappearing in the mist behind me. I will dive down to the ocean’s bed, lay on my back and look up at the rain crashing into the ocean’s surface. Watch the small ripples merge into one flowing wave, marvel at the traffic of tropical fish and mammals floating by above me. Maybe I will see this world differently if I see it from the bottom up.
Morning have broken, the skies are slowly turning from gray to tropical blue. The rooster was perched in the plumb tree crowing its head off. The yard dog stood under the tree barking at it. A gray white cloud lazily floated across the sky. Island boy stretched and yarned, ahhh yes, it was the beginning of summer holidays. A whole summer to go simmer down on the beach, go diving, wind surfing, sailing, and lets not forget the cook ups on the beach. Ahhh some fried fish, fish cakes, lobster, crab and calaloo. Man, all this day dreaming about food was making him hungry. He looked around the kitchen, what will he have for breakfast this morning. Ahhh yes, some saltfish souse sounds real good this morning, fry it down with some onions, garlic, tomatoes and yes a little pepper. And I do believe Mommy Charles had made some bakes last night, that will go real good with the saltfish souse. Oh and yes, I can make a hot cup of coacoa tea to drink with that.
Yes, this was a hearty breakfast for a busy island boy.
An immediate memory
Like last night’s dream
Utterances are words whispered
Gray vapour across the Appalachian sky
A simple melody
Like the creek behind the cabin
An indulgence of senses
Like a cardinal on blue grass
The notes from a clarinet
Floating in the Easterly wind
Bring the gospel of compassion
From the mountains to the heart
In the rainforest, where the clouds hang over the trees, green and white creating a floating silver lining just above the tree tops. Green leaves sparkle as the grey light bounce off their dew sprinkled surface, monkeys sing in response to the chatter of the parrots. In some parts of the forest, the leaves are green cold, as mother’s eye attempt to escape the clouds. The scent of the soil fills the air, nature on simmer. Straying flower petals glides through the underbrush using natures transportation, settles in the yards, on the dirt roads and on the galvanized roofs.
Ahhhh Sunday Morn, lay back watch the sail boat bobbing on the emerald ocean. Daydream about laying on the vanilla cotton candy clouds. Floating across the cool-aid blue nothingness. The gentle crunch of the golden sand against your back. The scent of the breach grapes in the tree hanging over you. The warm tickle of the early morning sun against your cool skin. Yes man, the feeling of the first day, peaceful. The best way to star
Mother nature lit up the sky with gray, silver, blue and white, just to create shadows across the sand, across the still ocean, on the colourful wooden houses. Shadow that follows you as if running from the dark. Shape shifting as you walk on the narrow roadway. Some as if protecting you, other as if attacking. But you don’t mind because you are walking in a world alive and ever changing.
She whispers and creates a fire rainbow across the night sky.
Ah yes, can I wake up the sun bouncing off the colourful, tropical rooftops. To the white clouds dancing across the blue skies. To the scent of tropical flours in the garden. No concrete jungle, no back firing cars, no hustle, no bustle, just cool runnings. Can I sit on my roof with a basket of mangoes for breakfast, watch the ships come and go, gliding across the emerald water. Yes man, can I just day dream as I walk out into the cold West Virginia morning.