Between the Layers

Shortly after takeoff we fly

between a ceiling of white

low to Earth’s pull

and a band of fluff filtering

out the sun — whose rays

seek openings to cast

golden ponds on the cloud-floor below.

It’s not a wonder we search

the realm of light and air

(some choose to stay?)

where evolving shapes of textured spectra

enchant endlessly

where peace is real

and the spirit soars.