How does one move gracefully on the ground?
Pacing side to side, waiting for the sun to rise.
The grass, swaying back and forth.
And the clouds still move.

The puddles from the rain, sit there, waiting for the subtle ripples.
A love affair of the earth and sky.
We knew each other way back then.
And the clouds still move.

You were a handsome lad. Tall and stout.
Mountains you could move with intellect alone.
The ground moving beneath your feet as your light shined through.
Mesmerized, was I, in a daze for a while.
The air was thick and heavy, no wind danced through.
And the clouds still move.

We slowly began the dance, flushing waters danced beneath a pale moon sky.
Your face glowed amongst a thousand fireflies.
We danced into morning, the sun blushing, peaking over the valley.
And the clouds still move.

Months pass and you found a tree.
A tree that moves with the wind.
It enticed you. Mesmerized.
You would sit under it’s branches as it sung you stories of sorrow and pain.
You were scared. Terrified even.
And the clouds still move.

You began to embrace the tree, with it’s fiery branches, being lit up from the sunset.
Golden Orange.
You began to take root, burying yourself into its whims.
You loved the tree didn’t you?
Its bright flowers of turmoil and passion.
And yet, you forgot about me.
And the clouds still move.

The gusts of wind began to build up between us.
What do they call it?
A tornado. Big as the sky will allow it.
Its twists and turns spun us around in a melancholic melody.
I saw you, and you saw me.
Pain. Agony. Shame.
And the tree did not move.
You held onto the tree as I took flight.
Your wings shattered by the weight of the tree.
You loved the tree.
Our friendship, left be.
And the clouds still move.

The storm settled.
But who was left standing?
Not me.
Not her.
Not them.
You.
You and the tree tood firmly in place.
Relieved of the chaos you caused.
Terrible.
I was several miles away. In awe of the tree.
The tree that apparently saved you.
Not me.
Not all that we’ve been through.
You and the tree.
The wind was calm.
It told me to stay away.
So I did.
And the clouds still move.

It’s been almost a year since we congregated under the pale moon light.
I miss what we had.
What you gave to me.
Life, love, happiness, a chance.
The thorns surrounding that tree took you away from me.
Stabbing you.
You love pain it seems.
You haven’t smiled or seemed happy since resting under the shade tree.
What’s wrong?
Won’t you speak up?
What bothers you?
Speak to me!
The pain, it aches and I miss you.
I miss what we had.
It was grandiose.
A love and friendship I never had.
Saturn was cruel to you and you know it.
But,
The clouds still move.

So I asked the universe, the angels, the most high to erase you from my memories.
But I see you all the time.
A plague in my heart.
Will I ever heal?
I will if I stay away.
So I take my battered wings and I fly into the sky.
You and the tree look up.
Unfazed.
I understand what I must do now.
And the clouds still move.

It will be a year soon, since you took your love and kindness away.
Since you were but a mountain moving beast.
You had the world in the palm of your hands.
You were healing.
You were happy.
At least you seemed like it.
But you chose your fate.
And I will choose mine.
I bid you adieu.
For you have taken root, and grown into a tarnished tree of your own.
Sad. I thought better of you.
Foolish of me to get the better of Saturn’s whims.
Let the young be young. And foolish.
Alas.
The clouds will still move.