I court the company of cotton bears and cosmic bunnies;
therefore petitioning heaven for peace of mind.
That dare I die tomorrowm it would feel good to live today.
And so I share my thoughts with the sky -
Rolling white caps o’ stratus and quo
awash in rhapsody’s blue;
tall and proud for to be a cloud
is to be a rogue ‘tis true.
Wanderers, drifters, coasters o’ cumulus,
o’ what places have you seen?
For ‘tis not so much o’ where you are going;
but o’ where you have already been.
Though I have traveled many a mile myself;
there is knowledge that I require.
Would now you impart your wisdoms true
for this I do so desire.
For I see the end o’ my days this hour;
would it be too little too late?
Might I court regret that I am beset
to only tempt my fate.
As ‘tis not so much the things I’ve done;
but the things I wanted to do,
and ‘tis not so much the loves I’ve won;
but the love I wanted true.
The bridges I’ve burned are lessons learned
and wisdoms by which to live.
Yet the hardest coin ever I earned;
was the knowledge o’ how to forgive.
It would be resolution I have come to conclusion;
I have lived life as like a cloud,
and the only solution is restitution
for what sins I have endowed.
This burden o’ guilt that I bear to grave
be my only heart once broken,
and that is the love for you that I spake o’
but yet have never spoken.
As my thoughts grasp the sky wondering why
I let go o’ a love that should be,
I know now a cloud has a soul as a soul ‘tis a cloud
as a cloud ’tis a soul - to be free.
Thus I close my eyes and listen
- for her heart.
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2003