I am still seeking poetry of the air, the clouds, the freedom of flight. I found this one when searching on “clouds” and while it may not be about the freedom of flight, any poem which mentions the poppy is all good in my book. 🙂


Clouds dream and disappear;
Waters dream in a rainbow and are gone;
Fire-dreams change with the sun
Or when a poppy closes;
But now is the time of year
For the dark earth, one by one,
To show her slower dreams. And nothing she has 
                       ever done
Has given more ease
To her perplexities
Than the dreaming of dreams like these:
Not irises,
Not any spear
Of lilies or cup of roses,
But these pale, purple images,
As if, from willows or from pepper trees,
Shadows were glimmering on Buddha’s knees. 

~~~ Witter Bynner

Read more about this poet at Wikipediia.
The round-up for this week’s Poetry Friday is at Check It Out.