The cloud turns to different shapes even in the clearest sky
It comes together slowly
along the colorful horizon.
If it's too hot,
let me cover you and give you a cold breeze.
If it's too cold,
let me move my fluffy, unrounded shape
to lift you aloft.
Let the sun give you consolation
from my gentle, undangerous side.
The white turns gray
even in the dimmed angle of light
before the tears of the sky.
The gray turns red, orange, and pink
in the beautiful sunset.
The red, orange, and pink turn yellow or golden
midway between day and night.
The yellow or golden turns purple
in the sun at its lowest.
If it's too dark,
let me stay here with you in the shadows
and give you a glimpse of light.
If it's too resplendent,
I might disappear —
but I'm still here in the present.