Gentle whispers in the sky, clouds drift and softly sigh,
They dance with grace and ease, painting dreams for all to see.
In their embrace, we find a peace, a fleeting moment, a sweet release.
The wandering clouds, they tell a tale, of distant lands and gentle gales.

They gather light from the golden sun, a tapestry of colors spun,
With every shape, a story told, they weave a beauty pure and bold.
Through valleys deep and mountains high, they float above, they never die.
A symphony of mist and air, in their presence, we are aware.

The clouds, they bring the rain and snow, nurturing the world below,
They cradle storms within their fold, a force of nature to behold.
Yet in their softness, they remind, of gentle breezes, calm and kind.
A poet’s muse, an artist’s brush, in their silence, life’s gentle hush.

So look above and see them glide, across the vast and endless sky,
In their journey, find your dreams, where nothing’s ever as it seems.
The wandering clouds, so full of grace, they carry secrets, time and space.
With every glance, a world anew, in their whispers, find the true.