Mysteries Still Becoming

Today’s clouds are the soft keepers of mysteries still becoming.
Bathed in morning hues of rose and gold,
they glide with a knowing far older than time.
In their gentle procession, something ancient stirs—
a remembering not of form, but of feeling.

They do not rush to reveal.
They cradle what is tender and not yet spoken,
like a secret cupped in sky’s open palm.
These water-breaths—visible whispers carried by wind—
lace through your thoughts,
offering veils instead of answers.

You are not separate from them.
You are the garland woven by them,
the hush between storm and clarity,
the witness becoming whole
by simply being here.

✨