when i look to the sky to give thanks
it begins to expand its blue border
to make room for piling white popcorn puffs
cumulus drifting in synchrony countless gargantuan isles
lofted in slow motion rising ever higher over unseen vents

the earthen heat wafts steadily upward in powerful sighs
our little blue car carries us, sails over spinning landscape
as all together morph and fall like tendrils of tiring steam
into the panoramic shifting light of enormous churning skies
all are swept into this dance when vast sacredness is realized

©John Greenleaf-Maple – text and art 7/5/17