Mushrooming, flattening, splitting into many parts, 
scattering across the sky, to be replaced by wisps 
of clouds, hanging tightly to each other's skirts.
Afraid to let go and become a part of something so 
much larger - so much more than what they are.
Blue sliding across the sky, slamming into whites 
of cloud's small eyes, gently dipping into depths 
of ocean tides.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem